Reviews of 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.

I can't really say much about this because it left me pretty unaffected and indifferent. I guess "it is what it is," but unfortunately, that wasn't much to get excited about. I wore it today and it certainly didn't smell bad, but there was nothing about it to warrant anything but a lackadaisical neutral rating. It's a pleasant skinscent, but there are many better ones out there.

Notes:bergamot, clove, violet, jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, salicylates, incense, Cashmeran, heliotrope and white musk.

Dans Tes Bras ("In your arms", DTB) is the latest creation by Maurice Roucel and it continues from where the atrocious Guerlain Insolence EDT left off, albeit in a less incompetent way. This floral-woody fragrance intends to elicit a "sensual skin scent" aroma, probably for couples in a space age future considering the amounts of blatant synthetics loaded into this juice.

DTB is not a violet-themed fragrance. Sure, it opens with what smells like a mini-me Insolence hairspray violet (albeit toned down and greener), but thats the extent of its violetness. There's been talk of a mushroom-note, but I don't get any mushrooms in the opening, atleast none which smell like the fresh, organic ones I eat. The opening accord has a little bit of citrus, a tinge of a decent violet note, and a blast of woody-musk. DTB features an overdose of Cashmeran(R) and it makes its presence felt from the beginning as it hangs like a massive dark cloud over the whole composition (its special effect being that it makes the whole composition feel "linear"). The gears do shift a bit in the middle notes, where an earthy patchouli note peeks out for a bit before another synthetic barges in, this time from the salicylate family. I detect lots of methyl salicylate, a wintergreen like note conjoined here with clove and featured in many muscle rub creams, and although not indicated in the notes, I also get acetyle salicylate....in the form of a chemically aspirin-like note which forms a good portion of DTBs second half. Several hours later, DTB mercifully dries down to good ol'woody-musky cashmeran with a tinge of saltiness.

DTB smells mostly linear, and the accords its outputs aren't pleasant. It doesn't impress in the quality of ingredients area, nor is it a particularly unique or attractive smell (unless you aren't familiar with cashmeran and salicylates). There are many superior violet/violet leaf fragrances to it (too many to list!) and if you want an enjoyable skin scent, Azure Soleil is just one (its "warm sand" accord is far more accomplished than anything in DTB). DTB isn't terribly bad, but at its price point and considering its competition, it better roll over and play dead. Maurice Roucel has been on a somewhat of a downward slope lately .. I don't know what hes trying to accomplish with his new fragrances? Gaudy and garish? Poorly rendered violets? Just plain disregard for the public? Boredom? Whatever it is, thank God Frederic Malle lined up Dominique Ropion pronto to release Geranium pour homme so quick after this disaster. Word has it that Malle was so enthralled by Roucels' skill that he had him done a ct-scan of his brain so he could have a look-see inside the moustachioed-ones brain....considering what he did with the supposed infinite resources granted to him by the house of Frederic Malle, Mr. Malle would need to make an appointment with Lacuna Inc.soon ...

Rating: 5.25/10.00

What I love about this fragrance is how it reminds me of another Roucel creation, Iris Silver Mist. I get the same salty, non sweet creaminess from those two fragrances. Maybe I also get the mushroom note. Something i wouldn't expect though is a combination of heliotrope with something else which for a feew brief moments in the opening reminds me of immortelle. i wasn't expecting that. Overall a very comfortable skin scent.

Ghastly , at first a sort of vanilla that starts getting a strong spicy smell. Then it smells like a bin on a hot day with something pleasant trying to break through. This is experimental perfumery that is fine if you were trying to re-create the smells of the Viking times for York museum.

Understanding that the inspiration for this perfume was clean skin helps to accept the opening scnet which does indeed smell of moist air rising from clean skin. There is a slight aldehyde scent which blends with body warmth odor that has a musty scent that adds an elder depth to the scent. But as the fragrance dries down the light florals mixed with delicate blend of sandalwood and patchouli enhances the clean almost soap like freshness. It smells very modern and fresh in the lineage of Gendarme but with more musty skin notes and is also similar to Puro Lino but with lighter florals and more clean soapiness. I think this might be my new favorite clean, fresh but neutral warm weather scent. This fragrance is not easy to love at first sniff, but as it dries it stays fresh and perky without losing its human touch. I like it for its subtlety and common freshness.

Sweet mushrooms? The top notes made me kind of nautious, I was close to scrubbing it off!!!, but then the mushroom accord disappeared and it settled down to a wonderful, transparent, feminine skin scent. You can liken it to taking in the scent of your girlfriend or wife after they take a nice long hot bath, little sweaty, a little salty, a little sweet...

Other than the opening it's quite a masterpiece

Congratulations to Maurice Roucel! His Dans Tes Bras for Frederic Malle wins my award for Weirdest Top Note in Recent Memory: mushrooms. Not earthy forest-floor-and-compost mushrooms, either. Nope. These are cultivated mushrooms – the ones that come pre-sliced in the produce section of your local supermarket. Heck, I can even smell the little cardboard cartons that they come packed in. The much commented upon and peculiar “hairspray” top notes of Roucel’s Insolence have nothing on this oddball opening gambit.

The mushrooms dominate for roughly half an hour before a slightly sweet, aldehydic (or is that salicylate-seasoned) violet accord partially displaces them. The dank, musty echo of the mushrooms offers an unconventional but effective counterweight to the violets, and keeps Dans Tes Bras from becoming cloying or claustrophobic as some violet-rich scents can be. (Dans Tes Bras’s violet accord is also spiked with a cool, brisk, peppercorn/camphor accent that I’ve caught in Bertrand Duchaufour’s Magnolia Romana and perhaps Serge Lutens’s recent Serge Noire. Could this be the new niche fragrance note du jour?)

As it evolves, Dans Tes Bras becomes progressively more dry, warm, and woody. After two or three hours there’s very little sweetness remaining – just a shadow of floral notes over velvety-soft woods. The Frederic Malle marketing copy proclaims that Dans Tes Bras is meant to evoke “the odor of warm skin.” I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I will assert that Dans Tes Bras functions as a “skin scent.” While not exactly weak, it is highly transparent and wears very close to the skin.

In temperament and style Dans Tes Bras is about as far removed as possible from Roucel’s first composition for Frederic Malle, the flamboyant and extroverted Musc Ravageur. Where Musc Ravageur is a brash and provocative exhibitionist of a scent, Dans Tes Bras is a guarded, demure, yet mysterious fragrance. Anyone expecting the exuberance of Roucel’s Insolence, Tocade, or Misssoni will be disappointed, but Dans Tes Bras’s understatement mustn’t be confused with blandness. It’s an odd, puzzling, and unique scent, with a decidedly “synthetic” flavor. Not synthetic as in “cheap smelling,” rather synthetic and proud of it. Once the mushroom accord recedes, there’s nothing remotely naturalistic about Dans Tes Bras, and even those photorealistic mushrooms possess an oddly surreal quality.

My lasting impression of Dans Tes Bras is of a subtle, sophisticated, abstract scent that travels far during its development without ever making too much noise. I must also say that why Frederic Malle is marketing it as a feminine fragrance is completely beyond me: Dans Tes Bras is as gender neutral a scent as I have smelled in years.

I'm probably being unfair reviewing this after only one wearing, but the appeal of this one completely escapes me. Maybe my taste isn't sophisticated enough yet for Dans tes Bras. Mushroom, Trebor says. I get a musty quality from this in the drydown that is a bit mushroomy I suppose, though I was thinking storage unit. Also, the synthetic top notes make me think of household cleaning products. I get pleasant faint whiffs of salt, though, as well as clove. To me, it smells like being embraced by someone who's been house cleaning and clearing out old things from the attic. I love some of Maurice Roucel's creations, so I was really looking forward to trying this one, but I don't get it. Oh well. We can't all love everything. I'm giving it a "neutral" because I've only tried it once.

An engaging aroma from the start: gentle, but a definite presence, making a fresh and slightly spicy impression, not exactly floral, but something woody-resiny tinged with moments of floral notes. When it dries down, it smells remarkably like clean, fresh skin, redolent of warmth and health. How Roucel does it is a mystery; from the pyramid, one would expect a slightly floral woody oriental. Indeed, in a sense, it is just that; nevertheless, it is the "skin scent" par excellence. Truly amazing how the warmth of skin can be encapsulated in such a fragrance!

Dans Tes Bras is floral, salty, slightly synthetic (aldehydic) and fleshy.

I like violet notes, but this violet note is almost chemically treated in a way that it radiates a fuzziness to it. Nothing close to the musky, civet-heavy barbershop vibe of Midnight Violet by Ava Luxe – or the sharp, pungent violet leaf notes in Grey Flannel by Geoffrey Beene and Narciso Rodriguez for Him. Rather the violet emanates like a gas behind a wall of synthetic diffused notes. Have you ever walked into a bathroom where someone has sprayed hairspray just a second before you walked into the room – and the air seems charged with ions and almost has a taste that hits the back of your throat? Well, DTB smells like that. Not the smell of hairspray (for that note, see Cuir de Russie by Chanel). But instead the smell of air, that has had hairspray diffused in it. With violets.

As it warms on my skin, DTB gets slightly more tangy. I think an online review I read mentioned ‘a field of mushrooms’. This description is close but I think it reminds me of the smell of an algae encrusted fountain, in a garden. Perhaps chlorophyll or something akin to mildew, yet dry (not watery or aquatic). Then, the strange accord recedes a bit on my skin and combines with my own skin smell and gives off a blindingly accurate recreation of salty, human skin. Fascinating!

I used to work cutting grass, as a summer job, during my high school years (I hated it!). In Miami, all landscaping jobs can be grueling due to the sunny, rainy and humid weather. I remember the smell of my clothes throughout the day while working in the hot sun, saturated with sweat and then drying in the work van on the way to the next job. Only to become saturated with sweat all over again, when we started the next job. Not the smell of sour body odor - but very much a sweaty body, dried by the sun.

The entire duration of the scent is close to the skin, with extremely below average sillage - yet average longevity. When the scent disappears from the surface of my skin, all I could smell was whiffs of the Cashmeran or white musk (I can’t figure out which one it is, since some musks I can’t smell…), with all of the other notes completely gone.

It’s impossible to compare this scent to any other scent on the market. However, lovers of the perfumer Geza Schon and his stripped down fragrances (Escentric 01 and Molecule 01 by Escentric Molecules; gs02 by Biehl) or Christopher Brosius’ strange accords (Chanterelle Mushroom accord by CB I Hate Perfume or Cumming by Alan Cumming) should definitely try DTB because I think it was created with the same sense of fragrant 'vagueness'.

Perhaps the only drawback for many will be finding a time/place to wear Dans Tes Bras. Me? It smells so wonderfully innovative, I plan on getting a full bottle (or atleast one of those travel size bottles) and wearing it whenever I damn well please.