Fragrance Reviews by Ms Rochambeau

Opium Orchidee de Chine smells very close to the original Opium in that it's a very spicy Oriental, however Orchidee is a little softer an more woody. It also smells a little like Salvador Dali's "Dali" in the drydown. Very beautiful.

As a lover of leather scents I had been wanting to try Knize 10, but the revierws on Basenotes and the Net were so varied that I had no idea of what to expect until I got my hands on a 4 ml decant. On me, knize 10 smells a lot like Serge Luten's Cuir Mauresque with a little Tabac Blond layered over it. At some point I'm also reminded of Chanel's Cuir de Russie, but Knize is a little more powdery and smidgen sweeter.However, even with the powderiness it never loses it's smoky edge.This is considered to be as a men's scent, but any one who loves TB and CM should try this.

I finally tore my nose away from Vero Profumo's "Onda" long enough to experience "Kiki".On me Kiki opens with a fruity/citrus-y blast of Lavender, but very soon after, a sexy, dark cocoa note emerges, a raucous opening that literally makes me smile. The scent eventually smooths out to a soft, powdery lavender soliflore (or so I thought) until the chocolate/cocoa note that I thought had disappeared comes sneaking back in. At some points I think I can even smell notes of a rich coffee roasting. Then suddenly Kiki is back to being a the subtle whiff of lavender on a soft breeze that I experience standing in my garden in the summer. To me Kiki is a playfully mischievous study of "light" and "dark".

While I usually don't designate a scent to be "summer" or "winter", I've decided that Armani's Extase works best on me in cooler weather. I acquired this one in a warmer time of year and while I liked it enough to buy it after I spritzed it on at the perfume counter and walked around the store for about a half an hour, I found that once I got it home I only reached for it a couple of times throughout the summer months. Fast forward to early November: There's nothing about it that's particularly profound or challenging, but I'm loving it. Said to have been inspired by Japan and the seductive skills of the Geisha, it's classified as an oriental that features florals like mimosa, jasmine and rose. However, what I get at the opening is more of a slightly dry peppery incense note that's joined a few minutes later by a creamy lemon custard note. As it dries down it turns to soft musky woods with very subtle florals weaving in and out. The sillage is perfect, and although it's being sold in the women's scent department, I think a man could pull this off.

I just received the 4 ml sample I ordered of this in the mail and I think that djolney hit the nail on the head in his review. The oud and saffron mix are very prominent in the opening and the combination is a little odd, overwhelming and medicinal. Maybe I haven't had enough experience with oud, except with Montale's Aoud Roses Petals. In ARP the oud, while odd and strange, is absolutely gorgeous. But Oud 27 smells very weird and synthetic for me at the beginning. 15 minutes later you can detect soft woods, but then the scent suddenly disappears. I was very disappointed as I expected Oud 27 to be as rich and lasting as Patchouli 24. It isn't. This really needs to be sampled before you purchase a full bottle.

I don't know how, but I managed to nab a 1930's coffret of four Lanvin minis, late one night on Ebay for under $40. It seems as though the bottle of My Sin was missing form the set and had been replaced along the way with a second bottle of Scandal, so that there were 2 bottles of Scandal, I bottle of Arpege and 1 bottle of Rumeur. That was fine with me since I already had a full sized vintage bottle of MY Sin. Now, let me tell you that vintage Scandal deserves every positive review it has received here. I thought Chanel's Cuir de Russie was the ultimate leather scent, but Scandal has now taken over that position in my mind. While I think Cuir de Russie is amazing Scandal is the most realistic leather scent I've experienced to date. It's also mildly sweeter and less harsh than Cuir de Russie can sometimes be. I agree with bbBD that Asha has written the perfect review for Scandal, so all I will add is that this scent is gorgeous from it's smoky opening down to it's soft floral leather drydowwn. This is one classy leather scent and is worth the hunt you're surely going to have to go through to get your hands on it.

This review is for vintage Rumeur. A scent called Rumeur was put out (I can't even use the word "reissued" in this case) a few years ago by Lanvin (or whoever owns the company now) that is absolutely nothing like the original version of Rumeur, which I had been curious about ever since I bought that awful new version from T J Maxx a while back.

I had read elsewhere on the internet that vintage Rumeur was kind of medicinal smelling and heavy on the carnation/clove notes. But what I'm getting is spicy dried ginger note on a bed of very soft and subtle leather and oakmoss. If I didn't know what it was and somone had slipped their wrist up under my nose wearing this, I would swear someone had layered Serge Luten's Ambre Sultan with his Arabie. If you would have told me this was s Serge's newest release I would have believed it. This smells unbelivably contemporary.

I sat up late one night watching the 1930's coffret of 4 Lanvin parfums that this was a part of on ebay because I was after the scent Scandal. However, Rumeur turned out to be the big surprise. The sillage is decent. This is a scent that can be worn by men and women. People keep saying that they can't believe Scandal was discontinued. Well, I can't believe Rumeur was. This scarce scent is highly unusual and should be experienced.

When I look for musk, I'm not looking for "nice" musk. Musk Ravaguer opens with a sweet warmth like candied fruits and creamy woods and stays this way throught. I don't get any notes that are remotely animalic, musky or sexual. Sillage is moderate. I guess I'm more of an MKK kind of girl. Now if you want to experience something really dirrrrrrrrrty, layer MKK with a little Onda (smile/wink).

UPDATE: I was so disappointed that it wasn't the dirty scent I was looking for that I failed to appreciate how pretty it actually is. At this point the weather is hot and I'm noticing things about it that weren't coming out as much in the cooler weather. Also the sillage is better in heat. While it's still not dirty and sexual in that MKK kind of way, it's a scent that's beautiful enough that people witll notice and for that I'm changing my rating to a thumbs up.

So far I've loved every Caron I've encountered except Aimez Moi. I don't dislike it...it just doesn't have the depth on me that is seems to have on others who have reviewed it here. I dont get any of the notes (like tobacco) that others seem to be getting. On me it remains a pretty linear and gourmand scent of tea and butterscotch candy. Delightful at first, but it doesn't hold my interest for very long. I'm glad I decided to get a 3 ml mini first, instead of springing for a full bottle.

I purchased a full bottle of this in the mid 1990's, but haven't worn it much over the years even though I like it.. Since then I've amassed a collection of many scents both new and vintage...enough that I am able to compare them for differences and similarites. When I decided to wear Vetyver Haiti today, I noticed some things that I hadn't noticed in the past, such as the cinnamon-like note along side the stong vetiver that I think is coming from the combination of carnation and clove. As the scent dried down further, I immediately noticed how similar it is to Molinard's Habanita and this is due to the fact that the ever-present vetiver is now joined by a creamy vanilla note. I even pulled out the Habanita to smell them side by side, and sure enough, they are very similar. At the base, Vetyver Haiti is like Habanita meets Mitsouko.

In my sketchbook I have a list of some of my favorite words. Among them:

ELEGANT
OPULENT
BEGUILING
MELANCHOLY (Because the word looks like what it means.)
REVERIE

L'Heure Bleue embodies them all.

A couple of months back I acquired a vintage bottle of L'Heure Bleue (the one with the rosebud top). I live on an artist's budget and was a little upset with myself (at the time) for paying more than I should have for something that I figured was not really a necessity.

I don't feel that way now. After wearing L'Heure Blue several times I've discovered that it inspires me in a way that no average perfume can. For me, it evokes a state of reverie that grows from a longing for something I can't describe. Melancholy inevitably follows because the ability to fully define that "something" continues to elude me and I know that I may never know what it is...."Rosebud".

The icing on the cake was when I discovered that the name was inspired by, what has always been, my favorite time of day/evening. Sometimes, as the day starts to wind down, I put on L'Heure Bleue, pour a glass of red wine and go out on my front porch to watch the last colors of the sky as they fade.

Note: I actually wrote this review last year, but recently edited it for a mispelled word that was important to the description of the scent (smile). I'd also like to add that this review was for the vintage L'Heure Bleue (1950's). I've read some of the negative reviews wondering whether it was the new version they were testing, since I also disliked L'Heure Bleue the first time I spritz it on in a department store. I too thought it opened with a clinical smell. However, I held my judgement on it since that same week I had bid for a vintage bottle on ebay. I won it and when I received it and put it on and immediately fell in love. I'm glad I took the chance on an older bottle and was lucky enough to get it. It makes me sad that so many of the beautiful classics have been altered until we may never know how some of them actually smelled when they were first conceived by the original perfumer.

This review is for vintage Joy extrait. I agree with JessicaGrace, all I'm getting is a rich, Jasmine soliflore. While I can appreciate the obviously high quality materials used in this scent, It just doesn't do it for me because it's too 'pretty", well-behaved and proper. I gravitate to scents with more of an edge. However, if you're looking for a Jasmine scent that's highly elegant and refined to wear to a special event, Joy is perfect. Even though it's not my "thing" I have to give it a thumbs up for quality and sillage and I'm happy to have it in my wardrobe.

Knowing this was based on rose, I had never intended to try it. However, a fellow Basenoter was generous enough to send me one of those tiny Nahema minis with the blue top. I'm not a fan of florals, especially when it comes to rose scents and I'm also not a fan of fruity florals, of which Nehama is said to be the first. So the mystery to me is why I like this so much when it opens like a big, sparkling, fruity rose. This is a strange scent, so I can't begin to articulate how it unfolds. All I can say is that as the scent quites down there is almost a Caron-like darkness that starts to unfold and begins to nestle the rose inside. At this point it brings to mind Caron's Fleurs de Rocaille, but Nahema has it's own amazing thing going and by the time you get to the gorgeous drydown it's hard to believe that the scent started out the way the way it did. This scent should be experienced even if you are not a fan of florals or fruity-florals in general.

Let me preface this review by saying that I dislike floral scents in general. Now, with that said, if this is a floral, as the previous reviwers have stated, I love it! To my nose, this doesn't come off as a floral. In fact I don't smell any flower notes at all. What I get is a very linear amber/vanilla scent that's like powdery, creamy caramel, so the amber note never gets overly sweet and cloying the way amber can sometimes do in certain scents. On me this is a gourmand scent and everytime I smell my wrist or catch a whiff of the scent as the breeze swirls around me I think of a cupcake. Unlike Ambre Russe or Ambre Sultan, there's othing heavy, comlex or intellectual about this, just a nice pleasant amber for warmer days. The sillage is good and people will notice.

Must de Cartier was a real surprise for me. I had expected it to be a big spicy oriental, but I didn't expect that it would unfold from start to finish in the complex way that it does. Luca Turin basically described it in The Guide as being the perfume equivalent of the ugly leftover chocolates that nobody wants in one of those big box of variety chocolates with strange fillings. While I can agree that the opening is such a cacophany of notes that can be overwhelming at times, it immediately settles into one of the most sensual and animalic scents I've experienced so far. I would say that I tend to agree with JaimeB's review. Yes, there is that looming chocolate-y note that remains from initial application to the warm vanillic drydown, but there are also big notes of leather and civet on me and that's why I'm smitten.

Other reviewers have said that the vintage is much better than the newer version. I have both in parfum strength and have tested them several times to see what the differences are. While I usually agree that the vintage is better, in my case the newer version works better with my skin chemistry. I get very little leather and no civet from the vintage version. On me the pervasive notes are chocolate, balsamy notes, leather, civet, amber, musk and vanilla, but sometimes it can be very woodsy. At other times, this scent can smell a little like Shalimar because of the big vanilla that starts to emerge closer to the drydown. In some ways this is a scent that's hard to pin down because it seems to shift slightly with each wearing, but for me that's okay because its always full of surprises. The sillage and longevity are perfect, as you only need to apply this once and it will last until the next morning. It's definitly a unisex and those who love gourmand scents should try this. I don't think you'll be disappointed.

Jan Moran's Notes:
Must de Cartier (1981 Oriental-Ambery)
Top Notes: Bergamot, tangerine, lemon, aldehydes, peach, rosewood
Heart Notes: Jasmine, leather, carnation, ylang-ylang, orris, orchid
Base Notes: Musk, amber

This review is for the EDT version: mildly spicy, ambery and creamy woods...not too loud, but beautiful and subtle with just the right amount of sweetness. When I first applied it, it smelled vaguely familiar to me, then I realized that it is very similar in tone to L'Instant de Guerlain as both have dominating notes of magnolia, amber and vanilla. The EDT doesnt have geat silliage and lays close to the skin as it goes into a warm, buttery drydown. I like it enough that I will be looking for it in EDP or parfum strength. It's a "feminine" fragrance, but the right self-assured man could really pull this off...he'd have to beat the women off with a stick.

This review is for VINTAGE Crepe de Chine extrait. I had heard about this scent for years, but had never had the opportunity to smell it until I acquired a 1/2 oz bottle of it several weeks ago. Categorized as a "green chypre", it has no fruity notes listed, yet it has a strange but wonderful opening that smells something like a vintage take on a fruity floral with a green edge...must be the aldehydes and what seems to be a note of galbanum.Very hard to describe, in a good way. After about five minutes it starts to turn a little more creamy and floral as a nice leather note starts lurking underneath. As it dries down, the leathery-ness becomes more prnounced with the florals wafting in and out. As a lover of leather scents, I was pleasantly surprised since I wasn't expecting to encounter that note in this scent. Whoo-hoo!...I'm one happy girl.

The Irma Shorell website lists the notes in the remake as follows:

Crepe de Chine perfume has top notes of nerolie, Italian bergamot, Egyptian basil, oil of Peru and fresh aldehydes. Middle notes of gardenia, ylang ylang, carnation, lilac, otto of rose, Romanian chamimille and Egyptian jasmine. Dry down notes of sandalwood, East Indian musk, oakmoss, vanilla, vetiver, benzoin and Indonesian patchouli.

I haven't experienced the remake, and judging from Mehitable's review, I don't think I'll need to.

Khus Khus (formerly Benjamin's Khus Khus) is a sweet, spicy scent that's an oriental with notes of vetiver, tonka bean, vanilla and musk. Think older versions of Coty L'Origan and Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue...Khus Khus falls smewhere in btween the two, only it's not quite as full-bodied and complex as either. But still, it's a nice scent. Sillage is good when it's first applied, but it seems to fade quickly and has to be reapplied often.

Maybe it's a skin chemistry thing, but this seemed to have gone into my writs and totally disappeared. I literally smelled nothing after applying more than a few drops on each wrist from the sample I'd ordered.I can't comment on something I can't smell. I'm curious to know if anyone else has had this experience with Fleur de Narcisse.

The opening blast of Animale was an alcoholic melange of synthetc smelling notes that made it seem cheap and thin. However, as it layed on the skin and warmed, it's rosy, animalic qualities emerged and I could see how this could be considered a seductive scent. To give you an idea of how it smells, think Paloma Picasso (F_Frez is right) meets Paco Rabanne's La Nuit, only the materials used in Animale are not nearly as rich as the ones used in both of those. But I still find it interesting. After smelling my wrist to experience it's progression, I felt that it would be better layered with something else, so I grabbed Muscs Koublai Khan and the two together created a real beast. Although there is a male version of Animale, this is very unisex and is worth adding to your collection if you're really into animalic scents.

I read in a review somewhere that this was a "leathery floral", so being the leather freak I am, I wanted to try it. I got a cheap 5 ml bottle from ebay. I was disappointed. To my nose, there was no leather to be found...It's just a linear, powdery floral and not much else. This is the kind of scent that makes me dismiss florals in general. However, a whole lot of people out there must like it since it's still being produced.

This review is the vintage Bellodgia. I was a little disappointed by this one. It's a floral based on carnation, but has none of the sweet spicy-ness that carnation usually brings to a scent, and that dark, mysterious Caron base that I love seems to be missing. This smells like a bouquet of carnations that have been sitting in a vase of water for a little too long...a little sour. When I referred to one of my books to see what the top, heart and base notes are I realized that there is nothing in there that would have brought the note of slight sweetness it needed, so instead it ends up being a kind of bitter and flat floral without balance. I've found that layering flat, unsweet scents like this with just a little L'artisan's Ambre Extreme can somtimes round things out a little more.

UPDATE: I'm glad the editing feature is working again because I'm on my knees begging vintage Bellodgia to forgive me. I have to change my rating from a neutral to a THUMBS UP. What I've discovered in buying vintage bottles of perfume that have never been opened is that what you smell when you first remove the gold wire and the stopper, is often very different from the true smell of the perfume that will come if you wait a while (for the molecules to adjust...or something). I now let the perfume set a week or so (with the stopper on, of course) before I judge it. I don't know, maybe it's the same principle as allowing a wine to breathe a bit before tasting it. I just know that when I finally tried Bellodgia again it was one of the most richy layered floral scents I've ever smelled and that dark Caron base IS there. In my opinion Bellodgia is as seductive, mysterious and complex as Narcisse Noir, but a litlle more melancholy.

The opening is gourmand like a tangy lemon tart pastry. In the mddle it's less overtly "foody" and more dry woody/spicy. I get what seems like sandalwood and ginger. In the far dry down it smells faintly like Jicky. Except for the opening, the sillage is not great and it disappears rather quickly on me leading me to believe that this is an EDT sample. In my opinion this is not a scent I need a full bottle of, but it is nice, light and definitely unisex. While I don't usually like classifying something as a "winter" or "summer" scent, this one is better in the summer as it is so light, it would get lost in the winter.

Although it doesn't smell exactly like it, Tea for Two reminnds me of Serge Luten's Arabie, but Dante and TaraYvonne hit the nail on the head with their description of the "smoky" note that everybody is referring to when they said it smells like cigarette smoke. I like Tea for Two and think that that note makes this scent intriguiging (is that spelled right?) even though I'm not a smoker After applied this note does smell literally like cigarette smoke on your skin or clothes. However, as the scent dries down the it turns into something less smokey and more like warm spiced wood. This is definitely a unisex scent.

It has been said that Insolence is a kind of homage to a few classic Guerlain's like L'Heuere Bleue, Apres l'Ondee and Vol de Nuit. While I've yet to smell Apres l'Ondee, I own both L'HB and V de N and I'm not getting the comparison. Insolence does not have the depth of either of those scents. First of all, Insolence's development, on me, is pretty linear. It opens with a very loud and cloying sweetness and stays that way for a good while. It's only in the very extreme drydown, when it's just about to disappear, that I get any references to the wonderful L'Heure Bleue (forget about Vol de Nuit...there's no comparison). In my opinion the comparison is just part of the marketing strategy that's being used to align the trendy insolence with the classic Guerlains. The strategy isn't working on me. I gave My Insolence a thumbs down as well, but after experiencing Insolence I feel that My Insolence is better...it's much softer and not as shrill.

This review is for the older (probably late 1980's) EDT. From all that I'd read, Nocturnes had been described as an aldehydic floral and when I first applied it, it did initially evoke a floral in the vein of Chanel No. 5. However, as the scent dried down I picked up on more green notes which made my mind shift to Chanel No. 19. A little later I got Guerlain's Chamade which is the way it pretty much stayed until the far drydown. If you're a Chamade fan, you'll like Nocturnes. In the end I would say that Noctures is pretty much what you'd get if you mixed the 3 scents I mentioned above, and as others have mentioned, it's the least "Caron" of all the Caron's.

I just accepted a bottle of Eau Sauvage as a gift from a a house guest. Before now I had only tested it on paper at fragrance counters. What a big mistake that had been. It's was hot here in DC today and as I applied ot to my skin for the first time. The initial citrus-y blast eventually moved aside to reveal the surprise of a wonderful skanky note that never came out on paper..I'm surprised that none of the previous reviews have mentioned it...maybe it's my chemistry, but I'm happy about that since I can appreciate a hearty note of skank in my scents. I later I reapplied it and layerd it with Jicky EDT...sheer heaven. But just as wonderful alone. i'm glad I finally have this in my collection. More women need to try this as it's definitely unisex. A big thumbs UP!

I have to agree with Trebor and Foetidus on this one...Montale's Sweet Oriental Dream is much more richer and well rounded than this comparatively "thin" example of a Turkish Delight scent. Serge Luten's Rahat Loukhoum is also a much better choice if you want to try a scent that's inspired byTurkish Delight.

If I smell one more fragrance that smells like this I'm going to scream. Fruity floral with a strong citrus note in the opening...floral musk dry down. You get the picture...pretty much the same description as every other mainstream scent they're making today. Take your pick from any perfume in your stash that you've bought within the last 5 years...chances are you already have at least one or two that smell like this, so don't waste your money by adding this one since all of the mainstream perfumes seem to be slight variations on the same formula. Thumbs down for no originality.

If I hadn't been given this perfume as a gift, I wouldn't have bought it. It's not awful, but there is nothing different or outstanding about it. In fact it was clearly desigened by the corporate powers that be to be as "pedestrian" as possible so that they could sell a ton of it. It's so middle-of-the-road neutral that it can be worn by a woman, or a man. I would give it a neutral thumb, but instead I'm giving it a thumb down because it leaves me so bored and uninspired that I know I'll never reach for it again.

This is a strange one. Kind of a weird cacophany of notes in the beginning and a little more floral than I would like. However, this starts to come together for me in the middle where I'm getting a note that's like a spicy and peppery carnation. At this point it reminds me of the opening of Caron's Bellodgia and the patchouli then becomes the perfect counterpoint to balance it out. LBdD starts out almost too feminine, then takes a turn into a place that has a slightly more masculine edge. Overall, I prefer the latter stages and if the men can wait until the top notes pass, I think they would love this scent. I have both the EDT and the EDP and find the latter to be much richer. Dont waste your time on the EDT.

A little drier and not as fruity/sweet as the original L'Instant. People seem to be generally disappointed by this, but I happen to think that the creamy, woody drydown was worth waiting through the boring and average beginning, but only if you can get this for half price at TJ Maxx, like I did. It's light enough to make a nice, unisex summer scent.

This review is for a vintage (1930's?) bottle of Emeraude. if you had blindefolded me, put this on my wrists, then asked me what I was wearing I would have said vintage Shalimar. No need to describe notes as Vintage Emeraude and Shalimar are that similar. It's a beautiful, spicy Oriental. I haven't smelled the recent drugstore version and judging from some of the reviews I've read, I could do without smelling it. Thumbs up for the old version!

Fleurs d'Oranger was among the batch of Serge lutens samples that I got from Aedes de Venustas NYC this weekend. When I first spritzed it on after I sat down on the bus headed back to DC this afternoon, I knew it was a scent that was going to be a little bit too sweet and floral for my taste, but I figured I had a four-hour ride ahead of me and all the patience in the world to allow it to do what ever it was going to do in that time. I thought it it may surprise me since some Serge Lutens scents can be full of surprises (maybe I've been spoiled by Un Lys). As I sniffed, all I kept thinking about were those little bathroom guest soaps that you keep in a dish on your bathroom vanity. At some point it got a little indolic and I'm thinking it was the orange blossom. Nice, but that passed rather quickly into notes of pink bubble gum and candy. In the extreme drydown it was back to a soapy floral. Sorry to say there were no surprises for me with this one. Personally, this isn't a scent I would need to smell again.

On me, the opening of Rousse is like placing a cinnamon stick and a open vintage lipstick from the 1940's in a well-worn, black leather change purse so you can open the purse and sniff. That combination of notes gives Rousse a kind of retro feel that the vintage scents often have, only Rousse isn't as full bodied and complex. In the middle development it goes through a warm, woody, but brief Douce Amere-like faze, before drying down to soft sandalwood and vanilla. It's a nice unisex scent and the sillage is decent, but there are other Lutens/Sheldrake scents that I would rather have a full bottle of.

This review is for vintage Vol de Nuit extrait. As my father always says..."time will not permit me to tell you"...just how gorgeous Vol de Nuit is. I managed to nab a bottle of this that was still sealed and with its original box. I had been researching it and looking for it for a while when one came up on Ebay. Here are some of my favorite things that have been said about it in various reviews I've read:

"...devastatingly melancholy"

"One of the most sensual Guerlains."

"The perfume of a woman who knows her own heart and mind."

"For femme fatales with brains, brass and independence."

"[it has] an enigmatic nature."

After wearing it for a few minutes I agreed that it had the same melancholy nature of Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue and Serge Lutens's Douce Amere, yet there's also a kind of warmth and gourmand-like softness/sweetness that keeps it accessible. It's the perfect balance between the intellectually seductive Nuit de Noel by Caron and the overt "come hither" seductiveness of Shalimar. I've tried the new extrait and the vintage EDT versions of Vol de Nuit and neither has the depth of the vintage parfum.

While the notes of Vol de Nuit have been listed at the top of this page, don't think for one moment that any self-respecting perfumer would list every note that went into making one of their creations. On me, I smell notes that haven't been listed in any pyramid that I've seen for Vol de Nuit. Fifteen minutes after applying it I get an animalic note that smells like civet even though it doesn't last very long. All through it I am picking up a constant vetiver note and a leathery powder. At some point in the drydown, it smells very similar to both Habanita and Nuit de Noel. In some ways Vol de Nuit is a kind of shape-shifter with many surprises. Vol de nuit makes me feel sultry even though I'm schleping around the house in a faded blue t-shirt, saggy sweatpants and worn out sockslippers.

I'm surprised that this is not more popular. But then again, it's a perfume like this that separates the girls from the women.

Definitely unisex and worth a try if you can find it.

I'm inclined to agree with the nay-sayers on this one. When I read the list of notes I thought for sure that this was something that I would love, however, it was not to be. Fortunately, I had purchased the 4-5 ml mini on ebay one night, so I wasn't out of lots of money. I really wanted to like it so I tried it on a few different occasions, but as someone mentioned earlier, all that keeps coming to mind is the loudness of a scent like Giorgio, even though it doesn't smell like it. Rumba has an over-the-top fruitiness that can become a bit cloying after a while. It would have been nice if that fruitiness had been tempered at some point by the oakmoss, sandalwood and cedarwood, but that never happens on me so the scent just sustains the same cloying fruitiness throughout to the point where I wanted to scrub it off. For sillage, think Giorgio, a little goes a long way.

For me, the pretty, pink packaging was the tipoff...just one more fruity/floral blah, blah. blah, boring disappointment. And with this, commercial perfumery continues its mission to dumb-down the experience of the average perfume consumer.

This review is for the vintage EDT and Parfum. As a person who does not particularly care for florals, I have to say that Narcisse Noir deserves its reputation as the femme fatale of all florals. While the opening can be a little sharp, it immediately settles into something that's creamy sweet, yet simultaneously smouldering with dark sensuality. Its innocence can't quite hide the animalic aggression that lies beneath it and this creates the kind of tension that I thought Fracas would have, but didn't. I'm smitten and I swoon every time I catch a whiff of it. Ernest Daltroff was a genious and it's a shame that the newest reformulation (which I tried) didn't stay true to his original vision. I had the hardest time getting my hands on the vintage parfum, but was glad I did. But if you can't manage to get the original parfum, the vintage EDT can be found ocassionally on ebay and it smells as great as the parfum. Grab either if you get the chance.

The opening of this can be too loud and sweet for some, as previous reviews reflect,. However, if you're patient the drydown is sexy, delightfully sweaty and a bit on the skanky side. A perfect scent for a seduction (wink).

I was given a bottle of this by someone and can tell that if you are considering buying this, save your money or put it towards a scent with a little more substance. There is absolutely nothing that sets this scent apart from anything else that's being offered in department stores. It had some smell on paper, but I don't know where it disappeared to once it hit skin. Needless to say there was almost no sillage and what little there was, was pretty boring. If all you're looking for is a light, lemony, but non-descript scent for summer than this could fit the bill.

Today, after dabbing on some Black Orchid, I've decided that it's the opening that has kept me from reaching for it for months. I don't like the opening as there are too much fruit flying around: plum, raspberry, black currant...whatever. But you can't get to the delicious drydown that's fit for a Film Noir femme fatale without it.Sometimes I'm in the mood to wait and sometimes I'm not. I just wish Tom Ford would come up with a version of this that's a little less Baroque and cuts to the sensuously woody chase that starts at the drydown.

From reading a few reviews of this and seeeing some of the notes, I thought I was in for a real treat when I ordered a 15 ml bottle of this. However I was very disappointed once I received it. I've given it a few tries, but the scent never seems to take off for me. It seems thin and lays close to the skin smelling like a paler version of richer and meatier Ambre Fetiche. I'm begining to realize that I don't much care for scents that feature 'white musk" as opposed to a musk that is much "dirtier". It could have benefitted greatly from such a note. However, it's pleasant and some may enjoy this as a light summer musk scent.

Every review here so far seems to capture some aspect of Ambre Fetiche perfectly. I was in Saks Fifth Avenue testing the line up of Annick Goutals that they had available as the SA looked on. She was doing her regular sales pitch as I continued to spay, sniff and write down notes for later reference. I was pretty much letting everything she was saying go in one ear and out the other, knowing that I would recognize something I was drawn to no regardless of what she said. Then I came upon Ambre Fetiche and that was it. I held the strip to HER nose and she said, "Oh my God, that's mysterious." "Exactly" I said, "That's what I'm looking for".

I can't say anything that hasn't already been said in the previous reviews about Ambre Fetiche other than to stress the pungent smokiness of this amber scent. However, I don't get much of a leather note at all. It is very different than most of the ambers that are being sold today, so ladies, if your looking for a soft, sweet, girly amber, this ain't the one. It lasts a long time and as Buzzlepuff said, it does go through a huge change between those first opening notes and the final drydown. This is worth trying for anyone who loves amber scents. I would love to smell this on a man.

This review is for a very vintage version of the pure parfum. I have to agree with tvlampboy, this is classic and restrained in that Chanel No 5 / Arpege kind of way. While it doesn't seem to transcend it's time in perfume history as well as Chanel No. 5 does, it's still very nice and sophisticated. I can see why it would have been a favorite of someone like Audrey Hepbern. I get a lot of incense with subtle florals that eventually dry down to somthing quiet, soft and baby powdery.

A nice, buttery-soft fruity floral...blah, blah, blah...It smells like most of those fragrance ads that you can open the fold and sniff inside of a Vogue or Bazaar magazine, or what have you theses days. To be fair it's more well blended and seamless than most, but at the end of the day, it's still one of those scents that's part of the current fragrance trend and not very different from anything else offered at Sephora or the average department store counter.

This review is for the EDT. I happened upon a full 1 oz. bottle (box and all) in a cute little antique store for just $10. The opening of this is very green and much like a quieter version of Chanel No. 19. I'm surprised no one has mentioned that before. As it dries down, the dominant floral note that emerges seems to be a quiet, buttery tuberose. The silliage is not great in this concentration, after the initial opening it starts to lay close to the skin. I like this, but I already have a vintage version of Chanel No. 19 parfum and this just can't compare. The part frosted/part clear Lalique designed bottle is gorgeous.

Nothing exceptional. No surprises. Just a typical perfume-y smelling floral that can become really cloying if you spray too much on. The floral notes were so overwhelming that they over-shadowed any other notes that may be in there. I simply shut down to it after a few minutes and scrubbed it off when I got home.This kind of scent is my reason for disliking the floral category of scents in general.

Strangely, Clair de musc's openimg on on me is a peppery rose that's very similar to Caron's Parfum Sacre, except it's a much more quiet and subdued scent than PS. However, as it dries down it the pepper note subsides and a mild, slightly floral and peachy note slowly emerges to take it's place alongside the now musky rose. This is a nice, well-behaved, "lady'like" musk and that's the problem for me; it's a little too quiet to show off it's personality.

I finally managed to aquire a tiny bottle of vintage L'Origan. After reading a lot about it I can see why it's been said that this scent was most likely the inspiration for Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue. As it developes on the skin, it seems to have many of the same notes as LB that evoke a kind of pastry-like sweetness. L'Origan embodies an earlier era in that it has a kind of "thickness", or weight to it that most contemprary scents don't have, but that's exactly what I like about it...nothing flimsy or timid here. However, unlike LB, L'origan has a kind of pungent, coppery edge to it. I know that sounds weird, but there was a note that reminded me of warmed pennies. Or is it just me?

On me Jasmine Noir opened very spicy and floral. It remained that way for about twenty minutes until the strongly indolic jasmine note took over. Wow, wow,wow, this was the dirtiest and sexiest jasmine note I've smelled in a perfume so far. Although it sustained this phase for quite a while on me, I cant say that the sillage was as good as I'd hoped it would be. With sexy indoles like that I want someone to notice them besides me, instead it layed close to the skin and I had to keep putting my wrist close to my nose. The scent was pretty linear because as others have stated, there were notes that never revealed themselves on me, but I didn't care because that dirty jasmine was to die for. Very elegant bottle.

This is a review of habit Rouge EDT.

As a woman I had been curious about how Habit Rouge, but wasn't sent over the edge to actually purchase it until I was in Bergdorf's Guerlain section (NYC) a couple of weeks ago and took a sniff at the tester for it. I didn't bother to spray any on a paper strip or my arm, but the little whiff that I did get sent me away thinking that I should investigate further. The next day after I got back home, I ordered a full bottle, basically untested. The weird thing is that, like foetidus, MonkeyManMatt and slinky (sounds like I've been hanging around with 3 hoods from a film noir), the first time I applied it I began to feel nauseated after several minutes. But I ignored the feeling and stuck with it. I was glad I did. After the initial strong and tart lemon marangue (spelling?) pie blast, it started to settle into something more like woody citrus with the peppery pimento note peeking through. Further into the drydown I get a little sandalwood, but the floral notes never show themselves to my nose. The scent eventually evokes one of those sweet and tart hard lemon ball candies with a soft leather in the background. A strange, hard to define scent, but I liked it. The sillage was medium on me. This is definitely a unisex scent and in my opinion, this can be worn in any season.

When I first smelled Habit Rouge, it brought to mind a vintage Caron scent I had acquired a few weeks before called "Eau de Caron". There wasn't much about Eau de Caron on the internet, but the Perfume Intelligence site does have an entry for it and lists the notes. Eau de Caron reminded me of Jicky, although it was not as rich, much lighter and the sillage and longevity only lasts about 15 minutes, then it completely disappears. The similarities between the 3 scents gave me the idea to layer Habit Rouge with Jicky. The results were GORGEOUS. In the end I prefer Jicky over all three and love it on its own, unlayered. Habit Rouge is very nice on its own, but it sends me over the top when I layer it with Jicky, so I'll continue to wear it that way.

After reading the 2 reviews here, I recognized this when I saw it on the shelf in TJ Maxx for $9.99 and purchased it. I was so curious to smell it that I was ripping the cellophane off of it in the parking lot on the way to my vehicle so I could spritz some on. I didn't like it. In my opinion there was something cheap, thin and cloying about it and I couldn't wait to get home to scrub it off. It wasn't the worst thing I've ever smelled and I can see that it could work for some, but it just didn't agree with me.

Azuree starts out with a sparkling bang that's pretty distinct and interesting, but by the middle it starts to smell like a combination of the new reformulation Rochas Femme and vintage Jolie Madame. For me it loses steam by the late drydown. For this type of scent I'd rather stick with Jolie Madame or Cabochard.

After testing a few Carons yesterday I can say that I agree with both the neutral and negative reviews here. Eau de Reglisse is just so-so as a scent. It doesn't last long. It's not very memorable and I'm sorry to say that you wouldn't be missing out on much if you skipped it altogether.

This is absolutely gorgeous! I don't really get the reason some say that this scent evokes Christmas, unless it's about roasted chestnuts, plum pudding or some other such olfactory association that doesn't resonate with me because I've never had the opportunity to smell it. It was a coincidence that I bid for and won, not one, but two vintage bottles of this on Ebay this past week (guess it was meant to be). This is definitely a scent that has both masculine and feminine qualities and I think it's the overall woodsiness that makes it wearable for both men and women. I am not a big fan of rose scents and while there is rose, the notes are so well blended that nothing really stands out. The word that comes to mind as I sniff at this is BEGUILING. It makes me close my eyes and swoon because it's so mysterious and undefinable. I'll leave the description of notes to others here on Basenotes that can describe it to you much better than I can. I'll just say that smelling something like this makes me sad that our culture has become so wimpy in the 21st century when it comes to scents. They don't make them like this anymore because most people can't handle it, and that's a shame. Where are all the tough "broads" in this day and age? As much as I admire Luca Turin and his judgement on most scents I can't disagree with him more on this one. There's nothing "boring about it".

This review is for the EDT: A beautiful and spicy oriental that's a cross between Salvador Dali and Opium. Not quit as complex as Opium, but gorgeous, creamy and smooth in it's own way. The drydown is spicy/woody and lays close to the skin. I can see wht some reviews I've read for it call it a "comfort scent". This is relatively inexpensive and worth trying, if you can find it.

Hell has frozen over. I never thought I'd say this, but I love Chanel No. 5. Between reading books on the history of fragrance and reading reviews on Basenotes I am learning a lot and that has been instrumental in opening my mind (and my nose ) up to things. I was always puzzled by the populatity of Chanel No. 5, but I didn't want to give up on it. Periodically I would go to my perfume stash over the years and spritz on some Ch5 from the refillable EDT atomizer my mother had given me years ago, and each and every time, the opening blast of aldehydes would repell me and I would run to scrub it off. Then about a month ago I deceided I was going to get to the bottom of this Ch5 thing once and for all by trying various strengths and vintages of the scent. I already had the EDT (from the early 1990's), then discovered I had an EDP (new) strength among my many perfume samples. All I needed now was a vintage pure parfum. I managed to get my hands on a half of a half oz. vintage bottle (from the 50's judging from the stopper' shape).

From what I read, it was Chanel's intent to have a perfume that did not smell like any particular flower or any other immediately recognizable thing. She desired something that was more of an abstract scent, free of perconceived associations, something that was it's own thing. As a painter I immediately understood that and proceeded to test all 3 versions of the scent with that in mind. I started with the EDT which I had had the longest. This time I waited patiently for the strongly aldehydic phase to wear away and was surprised to discover subtle leathery and animalic notes (does anyone else get that leather note?), that I absolutely love, in the drydown. Wow!. Next I tried the newer EDP. Interestingly, I detected a slight "fruity" note leaving me to wonder if this newest version had been slightly reformulated to satisfy the trend for scents with fruit notes. Last, I tried the pure parfum. That's the one that did it fro me. I don't know if time has mellowed the blast of aldehydes, or what, I just know that this version is beautiful from start to finish. The notes are blended so well that I can't single anything out. It is just it's own beautiful thing that changes and surprises me the whole time I'm wearing it. I love layering the EDT with the pure parfum. Not surprising, the new EDP is my least favorite of the three. I understand now why Marilyn Monroe would wear Ch5 to bed: when you smell your wrist in the morning, there are no words to describe how pretty that last faint trace of this scent is.

There is nothing "old lady" about this as far as I'm concerned. In fact, I have no idea of what certain reviewers mean when they describe something as smelling of "old lady" and even though I'm not an old lady, I still find it limited and insulting. Do they mean smelling of a "classic scent"? Because that's the way I take it. I know that when some one says this about a scent, they mean it as a negative. However, I take it as a positive, and a cue that the scent they are describing is probably as far from a cheap, trendy, Paris Hilton or Britney Spears tooty-fruity gourmand as you can get.

I can now see why Ch5 has been around for almost 90 years and will probably be around for 90 more. Thanks Basenoters for helping me to discover this gem!

Poivre Piquant opens with a creamy-soft butteriness and reminds me a lot of Mechant Loup, another L'Artisan scent. There's also liquorice and very faint honey note. That phase is really nice. However, within moments, a pepperiness sets in that is very off-putting (too peppery, which doesn't leave room for much else to come through very well). From then on, the scent is a dry, milky pepper note that wears very close to the skin with very little sillage. Then suddenly, it disappears altogether.All that this scent has to offer comes within the first 15 minutes. I'll give it a neutral thumb instead of a thumbs down since the opening is nice.

This is a little too heavy on the floral notes for me. If you're into florals you would probably like this. I wouldconsider this more of a feminine scent and if you want a good idea of what you're getting before you try it, think Fracas.

I had this sample for a while, but was put off by the name since I'm not a big fan of scents where rose is the focus. But last night as I was in a mood to try one of the many samples I had cast aside due to my preconcieved ideas about them (I'm learning). I chose Voleur de Roses. The initial blast is almost medicinal and camphor-like, but after a while it settles into a rich, wet, earthy patchouli tempered by the gentle scent of rose. This worked for me since I am a fan of patchouli. If you dislike patchouli, or you're expecting a soft feminine floral, don't even consider this scent since it's pretty linear as far as that note is concerned. I never got the plum note that others have mentioned. Through most of the drydown the scent reminded me of a more low-key Borneo (Serge Lutens) minus the powdered cocoa note. At some points the scent is almost like oud. I'm happy that I reconsidered this scent. It's definitely unisex and I would wear it again, but I think it would be GREAT on a man.

The note of pine dominates this fragrance. I must say that while it was an experience, it didn't really live up to all of the reviews about its power, and strange beauty. It just kept reminding me of two things: one was the faint smell of the live Christmas tree that seemed to linger in our house months after the holidays where over when I was growing up. The other is the smell our kitchen after my mother had mopped the floor with a mixture of hot water and Pine Sol. While both smells evoke thoughts of comfort and cleanliness, its not something I find attractive on my body. I can't say that it's bad, I just don't feel that I need to experience this again as a perfume.

I once had the opportunity to visit Russia when I was participating in a joint show of Russian and American artists. They graciously held a reception for us at a very grand old building that sits opposite The Saint Basil Cathedral on Red Square in Moscow. Beautiful crystal chandeliers provided warm, ambient light and as a 4 string quartet played, tuxedoed waiters kept the champagne and vodka coming on polished silver trays. At some point during that cold December evening the huge wooden doors of that grand building were flung open and became a perfect frame for the view of the onion-domed cathedral at the opposite end of the square. Perfect snow flakes were falling and I stood mezmerized feeling like I was standing in the middle of a scene that could have been in Dr Zivago if it wasn't the year 2000.

Please excue my moment of reverie, but it helps to explain why I think this scent is a masterpiece. The opening is all boozy amber making it one of the most unusual scents I've ever experienced. The alcohol starts to recede after about 20 minutes to a half an hour, making way for more amber and what smells like the tobacco from an unlit fine cigar. But at the same time, if you put your nose to your wrist, you can smell notes that are both floral and spicy. I have yet to get the leather note that everyone mentions, but it doesn't matter, there's enough going on here to satisfy me and the amber is gorgeous througout. I don't know, maybe the 8 days spent in Moscow and St Petersburg primed my imagination, but I can see how this could have been the elegant/decadent smell of Russia at the time of Czars and Czarinas. Silliage is perfect. Love it!

On me, Cuir Mauresque starts out like some kind of cleaning fluid. It's not awful, but it's atrange and strong. After about ten minutes it starts to settle into s mild and spicy leather that's rather sweet. There is a slight floral note in there but it stays in the background. The sillage at this point is mild. While the drydown is nice, I was hoping for a leather that was either a little more animalic and/or smoky. ZZ Top was right (see his review below), on my skin this is more ambery and floral when it's all said and done. My top 3 leathers are still, Montale's Aoud Cuir d'Arabie, Tabac Blond, and vintage Jolie Madame (which can be found regularly on ebay). I think CM is a pretty scent, but since it wasn't the hardcore leather I was looking for, I'm giving it a neutral thumb.

I managed to get a vintage bottle of the parfum. I'm slowly trying to experience more of the Caron's since, so far, I've only experienced Parfum Sacre. Infini is a scent that I just can't figure out. First out of the bottle it is definitely an aldehydic floral, but as it settles down, I really can't distinguish any notes with the exception of what I think is vetiver that starts to emerge. The scent goes away very fast on me (within an hour) almost without a trace. It's not bad, but it doesn't move me enough to make me think I'll want to reach for it again other than to sniff it from time to time. Some scents grow on me (see Parfum Sacre update below), but Infini doesn't have enough of what I like in the first place for that to be a possibility. Oh, well, I still have this odd, infinity-shaped bottle to add to my bottle collection and I didn't pay much for it.

Parfum Sacre Update: A friend gave me a full bottle of the EDP as a present and I've learned to ignore the pepper note that turned me off at first, since that note seems to wear away very fast on me. What's left after that is a scent that developes into something absolutely heavenly and lasts for many hours. I'm now glad that I didn't let the pepper note make me give up on it.

My feelings were mixed when I decided to track down a small amount of Fracas to try. From all that I'd read about it I came away with the impression that no self-respecting perfumista would be caught dead without some form of that scent in her wardrobe. However, I don't care for big florals. Up until now the only experience I had with it was a couple of spritzes on a department store paper tester, so I was waiting to find it in parfum form so that I could get the full experience. I managed to find a 3 ml mini pure parfum last week for under $10. Almost everyone seems to love this and I don't think all of those people are wrong. It's me. I tried, but I cannot take overly floral scents, especially when they are linear.To me this is what happens with too much of a good thing:there are too many flowers here and the other notes that should give it a little more balance, don't. All this tension between the floral and the "dark" that supposedly earns this scent it's name, doesn't happen on me. It stays much too floral and shrill on me all the way through, then just disappears. I can imagine that if you like florals, this is absolutely wonderful, so I'm not giving it a thumbs down because I think is an awful or badly made scent, I'm giving it a thumbs down as a "heads up" for anybody who is trying to steer clear of big florals, and because it doesn't work for me.

As a lover of leather scents I had been trying to get my hands on a bottle of this for a while now. I finally acquired a vintage mini of Jolie Madame today. The opening is very sharp but as those first top notes start to settle down, I can smell the leather note emerging immediately. Other reviewers have mentioned violet and that may indeed be one of the things I'm smelling in the opening, however, my immediate impression is a smokey combination of tobacco, tea and leather. This was note quite what I expected and I was pleasantly surprised and a bit thrown off. I'm amazed that this one is categorized as a feminine scent because this is definitely unisex as far as I'm concerned. There's nothing sweet about it. From all I've read, it has apparently been reformulated in recent years to appeal more to current tastes, and I'm not surprised given the fruity gourmand trend in perfumery today. This is as far from that as you can get. This doesn't smell like Bandit but it definitely has the same attitude.

If you like Bal a Versailles you'll like La Nuit. They have a lot in common in the beginning and in the middle. La Nuit is definitely a leather scent, but it's not as hardcore as, say, Montale's Cuir d'Arabie, which has become my reference leather. The leather comes early in the drydown and this is when it reminds me most of Bal a Versailles. That stage lasts for a while, but then something strange happens. With La Nuit, it's all about the drydown. That's where the scent's real personality emerges and sets it apart from everything else. It seems to develop into something from another era. It starts to smell more animalic and "vintage" in a way that's hard to put your finger on. Perfumes of today smell nothing like this in the drydown. At this point on, it is nothing like Bal a Versailles, but is it's own undefinable thing. In my opinion, it's not quite as raw, "filthy" or "vulgar" as some reviewers have described (I wish it was), but it's definitely provoking and sensual.

I agree with eugenie about this one. It's very nice, but there's nothing about it that knocks my socks off. I expected to really like this as I was very intrigued after reading many of these reviews for it here on BN. I was hoping for, but got absolutely NO rubber, leather or anything rough and tough like that. Instead it was a predominantly vanilla scent on me. In my opinion it's very tame. It wouldn't be the one I would reach for if I was trying to make a statement. The sillage is good and it's definately a unisex scent.

Pure genius. This is what comes to mind: earth, leather, tobacco, wood, smoke, urine. It's pungent, animalic, meaty, rich. All of that is the opening of Onda. I was immediately smitten. I couldn't function because I couldn't tear my wrist away from my nose long enough to do anything. After everything I've read about this, the only notes I could gather from various websites are vetiver roots, ginger, mace and coriander. There has to be more to it than that. This is too well blended for my amateur nose to pick out individual notes, but as the scent dries down, the vetiver emerges and this is where Onda crosses paths with the Guerlain classic, Djedi (see my review for Djedi where I compare it with Onda). Shortly after, the most unlikeliest of notes comes to accompany it: soft baby powder. As strange and confusing as Onda is, I find it warm and comforting. when I wear it I feel like I'm letting everything that is the best of me emerge. It's unbelievable. This is that kind of scent that keeps me wondering "How did she do this?" In my opinion, this scent could one day be as sought after as Djedi is now. It's that sublime. I guarantee that this is going to be one of those scents where the reviews for it could be split down the middle.

Onda is at the top of my wish list. I'm absolutely "ga ga" over it. I'm even thinking about taking the box containing $150 in gold dollars my Mom gave me last Christmas that I was saving for something special and plunking it down on a full bottle of Onda. From what I've read it's supposed top be available in the U.S. in September. I'm waiting, but not patiently.

Mauboussin is all candied fruit and creamy woods. It's really pretty and delicious in that Angel kind of way. I enjoyed it and it lasts a long time, but it belongs in a genre that's the trend in perfume these days ( the fruity gourmand), so there really aren't any big surprises here.

What makes Mitsouko so mysterious is that it's difficult to define. it's so well blended that it's difficult for me to pinpoint many individual notes. I have both the vintage and the new. They are almost the same, but with slight differences. The vintage opens up on me with a more nutty cinnamon note. From the beginning the vintage version seems to maintain a kind of aloofness. However, as the fruity peach note comes to the front the scent gets only slightly warmer. This stage lasts pretty long on me. As it dries down further, I get a vetiver note that combined with the cinnamony peach is really strange, giving this scent the quirkiness that makes it so amazing for me.

The new mitsouko is the same but the main notes seem to be in reverse order for me. In the new version the peach note is there right out of the gate with the cinnamon emerging a little later. The new version is also noticeably warmer and slightly sweeter in my opinion. In germanomio's review he mentioned that the vintage version had a "frying oil" smell and I get exactly the smell he's talking about, except that I'm getting it from the new version. That smell combined with the peach/cinnamon notes evokes a vision of donuts in the process of frying and I actually find that comforting.

The new Mitsouko, unlike most reformulations, has remained true to the spirit of the original. But it's also more "accessible" by today's perfume standards making it a little less mysterious and aloof. I appreciate both and will sometimes layer them for the qualities that they both bring.

I've had a small bottle of Coco in my collection for a years and I've just decided to try it. I've held off all this time because I assumed I wouldn't like it because of the aldehydes (the main reason I'm not a Chanel fan). It started out smelling a little too perfume-y or what you would expect a good perfume to smell like. It smells very nice and well made, but there was nothing really exceptional about it that set it apart from, and above all others for me. I was patient enough to let it play out, but as I smelled my wrists over the next couple of hours my opinion of it didn't change. I liked the things that were happining in the drydown ,and I can see why it was popular in the eighties and why so many people still like it, but I prefer scents that are a little more quirky, challenging and thought provoking. I don't know, maybe it was groundbreaking in the eighties, but it's much to "proper" now.

renperd's review made me laugh because Bal a Versailles is like a coquette. The opening (for me) is powdery cinnamon/clove and florals. As it starts to dry down a rich woodiness emerges that's velvety soft and still overlay-ed with spice. Unlike others, I can't call Bal a Versailles a warm scent because throughout it always seems to remain cool, refined and aloof. It teases you by pulling you in just enough, but never allowing you to get close enough to really figure it out. B a V is as hard to pin down as Mitsouko because of the way it keeps playing and changing on my skin as time passes. It's never overly sweet, but just perfect in it's balance. This is one of those scents that I can suddenly be hit with a craving for, like a slice of pizza, or some other satisfying food. The far dry down is a soft, faintly sweet and powdery leather that can be swoon inducing.

Many have talked about how animalic this is, but I don't get much of that at all. For me, what makes this a romantic and seductive scent is the sense of mystery it evokes. If you don't care for powdery notes, you may not like Bal a Versailles. But then again, this may be the one that makes you make an exception to that rule.

Like Nash, I stumbled accross this one in TJ Maxx for $12. I had never heard of it before, but as a woman who will smoke an occasional cigar and likes tobacco based scents, this caught my eye immediately. It was sealed so I couldn't test it in the store, but at that price I figured I wouldn't have lost much if I got it home and didn't like it. I agree with Ken_Russell and a couple of the other reviewers--this is a cigar evoking scent, but it isn't very complex and immediately after I sprayed it on I was a little disappointed at how cheap and obviously synthethic it smelled. This is categorized as a men's fragrance, but my usuals: Tabac Blond, Fumerie Turque and even Habinita would kick it's butt any day when it comes smouldering, smokey leatheriness.

Soft florals, amber and woods = a scent like buttery suede. This scent is a one-liner, but It was pretty enough to make me keep wanting to smell the back of my hand.

This 2' bottle of Salvador Dali (black lips) has floated around with me from various apartments and finally to my permanent home since the late 80's. Back then, I was primarily collecting perfume for the bottles. As an artist I was happy to have this bottle since I had studied Dali's work in my college art history class and knew it was his design. I had never attempted in all the time I owned it to get acquainted with the scent inside until recently. I have Basenotes and its contributors to thank for teaching me how to fully experience scents and helping me to discover the many treasures I had right under my nose if I would have just opened the bottles (vintage Jicky and Shalimar among them), dabbed some on and patiently waited.

A few weeks ago I decide to try this and was so surprised by how beautiful it is that I could have kicked myself in the head for not trying it years ago. The opening notes are very floral which I'm usually not a fan of, but this is so well done that I can more than live with it. The sillage at this point is good, so a little bit goes a long way. As it starts to dry down the flowers seem to make a rapid exit and I start getting notes of rich leather and dark tea even though these notes are not listed in any description of this perfume's composition that I've found.. Eventually the tea recedes and the leather note becomes more prominent and the scent seems to stay like this for a while, which is great because I'm crazy about leather notes. At this point it smells quite similar to the leather in Bal a Versailles. In the extreme drydown stage the tea note comes back again and that's what's left as you wake up and smell your wrist the next morning. This scent is gorgeous! My bottle is old and tiny, so my fear is that I may run out one day soon if I keep wearing it the way I have been and when I attempt to replace it, the only thing that will be available will be a, most likely, reformulated and watered down version.

Douce Amere sparkles from the moment the mist leaves the bottle and hits my wrist. This is a warm, almost nutty scent with a note that reminds me of the smell of fresh rye bread. Way into the drydown I get a kind of dry sawdust note (which is wonderful to me since I'm an artist and this is the familiar smell of my studio on occasion). There is also a note that reminds me of human sweat that I find very sensual. Through it all there is a cinnamon/nutmeg spiciness that makes this scent the perfect balance between masculine and feminine. I wasn't expecting to like this as much as I did when I ordered my first small sample (I have since ordered a larger decant), but I was hooked from the beginning. This is one of my top 4 Serge Lutens scents, along with MKK, Borneo 1834 and Un Lys. In my opinion Douce Amere is really underrated. Like its name implies, there is something beautifully melancholy and mysterious about this scent. I think it's a deceptively simple scent that wasn't meant to make a loud, assertive statement , but was meant to be quietly pondered. Definitely a romantic one in my book.

I'm not surprised this scent got such mixed reviews. It's definitely not for everyone, but it is for me. There are scents, and then there are experiences, and like Djedi, Onda and MKK, Borneo 1834 is an experience. On my skin this scent seems to be so well blended that not one note jumps out and becomes overpowering the way others have described. I get camphor, I get patchouli and I get cocoa in the beginning. While I would hardly consider this scent to be floral in any way, there does come a point in the drydown where I get what must be the "white flowers" that are listed weaving in and out. The dissonance of the notes in this scent work for reasons that can't be explained making the wearing of it more like a "happening" or performance, especially since the sillage is good. Some scents I wear to smell good, but when I'm in the mood to be entertained, I love wearing a scent like Borneo.

Personally, I don't believe in the winter scent/summer scent thing. I just think that one has to understand that you don't need to apply as much of the heavier scents in the summer. If I relegate scents to particular seasons it deprives me of all the little nuances a scent may have to offer in different seasons due to climate change and even the subtle changes our skin chemistry my go through from season to season. Some consider Borneo a winter scent, but I think the notes in it are wonderful in hot, humid weather.Serge Luten's Un Lys, is beautiful and almost demure in the winter, but she becomes a real skank on me in the summer and I love the versitility. I'm learning that I should probably test my scents in every season before I can give an accurate review of them.

I got a healthy sample of Un Lys in the process of bidding on a miniature bottle of Parfum Sacre that was offered with it on Ebay. I had pretty much dismissed Un Lys since I don't care for floral scents. In the meantime I had ordered the wax Serge Lutens sample set from France which arrived before the bottle did. I spread the sample on my wrist and was immediatly smitten. All I kept thinking was that if Un Lys could smell that wonderful in a weak wax sample, I couldn't wait to smell the actual liquid. When it arrived I was not dissappointed. I tend to go for scents that are spicy, woodsy and smokey like Tabac Blond, Habanita, Fumerie Turque, but Un Lys is giving them all some real competition. There is something creamy and hypnotic about this scent. This is exactly why I've learned to never say "never" when it comes to Serge Lutens.

UPDATE: in hot, humid weather there is an underlying skanky note that's absolutely gorgeous! Un Lys is full of surprises.

After reading a lot of information about L'air de Rien, I couldn't wait to get my hands on a sample. It sounded so mysterious and intriguiging. However, I was a little disappointed once the sample arrived and I tested it for a couple of days. L'air de Rien just didn't live up to the dramatic descriptions. I didn't dislike it because it is a very pleasant scent, full of sweet amber, vanilla, and spices with a hint of musk. On applying it I got a feeling of light airiness, and with the exception of a brief and fleeting skanky note in the vein of MKK, it never really evolved much beyond that on me. I got absolutely nothing like the "old houses, chests of drawers, smoked pipes, soiled underwear and floor polish" that this scent was supposed to evoke. I was expecting this scent to be much darker, brooding and moody like Djedi or vintage L'heure Bleue, but instead it was more like a sunny, spring meadow with an old abandoned house on a hillside off in the distance. Like I said, this is a nice scent, but it's not bottle worthy for me because it comes dangerously close to smelling just like all the other cutesy offerings that can be found at department store scent counters or Sephora.

The opening is a spicy (like cardamom, cloves, nutmeg)/boozy (rum) blast that quickly mellows into a scent that's more dry, woody and spicy with an underlying saffron note that evokes L'Artisan's Saffron Troublant. This is the stage that lasts the longest for me and as I keep smelling my wrists I'm also reminded of Donna Karan's Black Cashmere and Tea for Two, another L'Artisan. However, Idole has it's own thing going. Way into the drydown, it's all about warm, sweet, creamy woods with amber. I would like to get a leather note, but my nose doesn't seem to be picking that one up. The final stages of this are so mellow and warm that I do consider this a comfort scent and I didn't even realize that this was supposed to be for men until I went to write this review and saw that the majority of the reviewers that weighed in on it were men. I disagree. I think it's definitely a sent that can be worn by a woman as well.

I don't find the bottle design "trashy" at all. I think it's a gorgeous design that's obviously been influenced by the Art Deco period.

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

I guess I've been spoiled by having experienced a few of the Guerlain classics (Jicky, L'Heure Bleue, Mitsouko and Salimar) in their vintage form. Because of them, the bar was set high a long time ago, not just for Guerlains, but for perfume, period. My Insolence doesn't come close to that bar. It's no better and no worse than the average scent you can find at the perfume counter of any Macy's depertment store. Just because there is a trend in perfume toward this kind of scent, doesn't mean that Guerlain should feel they have to weigh in with one. They should leave that to the clothing designers with their "of the moment" sensibilities and go back to focusing on the developement of scents that are well crafted enough to become the highly sought after classics of tomorrow. My Insolence will not be among them.

This review is for vintage Antilope. The Perfume Intelligence website lists the notes in Antilope (a floral, woody, aldehydic chypre) as: tangerine, neroli, galbanum, acacia, farnesiana, narcisssus, hyacinthe, ylang ylang, may rose, lily of the valley, oakmoss, civet, sandalwood and musk.

After the initial vintage perfume smell wears away (5-10 minutes) the scent starts out very floral and adehydic. I don't care for scents with aldehyds and ususlly steer clear of them, so obviously, I'm not a big fan of Chanel No. 5 which is what Antilope kind of reminded me of as it started to unfold. I'm also not a big fan of overly floral scents, but I waited patiently to see where it was all going. I got absolutly no tangerine. What developed was a dry, baby powdery leather that stayed for a while. Then as it dried down further, it became a skin scent that was woody and grassy (that site doesn't mention vetiver, but that's what I got) like hay with an underlying sweetness that was nice and subtle.

I agree with castorpollux, except for the leather, this scent isn't as animalic as I expected. I didn't get any musk or civet at all and was a little disappointed. If you're just looking for nice, soft leather scent, you may like this a lot.

I recently aquired a set of scents called the Salvador Dali Metal Collection. The coffret features 5 of the Dali scents in bottles with "metallic" finishes of various colors. The 5 scents are: Salvador Dali For Men (EDP), Laguna (parfum), Dalissme (parfum), Salvador for Men (EDP) and Salvador Dali (parfum). My interest in this set sprang from the fact that I had already owned one of the scents (Salvador Dali, originally in a black nose and lips bottle) for years, but had only recently tried it and fell in love with it, leading me to become curious about the other scents. When this set came up on ebay I pounced on it.

Judging from the limited reviews and information on most of these scents, I would say that they're rather obscure, but I figured I should write a review for them anyway, since the few reviews I found on this site were very helpful in me making my decision to purchase the set. I figured that my review could be helpful, along with others if someone else came upon one of these scents and wanted a few opinions before making a purchase.

The bad news first: Laguna, which is marketed as an "aquatic" women's scent is the one in the bunch that I just plain don't like. I don't even know where to begin. I'll just say that everything about it smells a little watered down, cheap, synthetic and cloying. Dalissime (also for women). With it's notes of peach, apricot and lychee, seems like a bad, watered down knock-off of Guerlain's Mitsouko. It has almost no sillage.

Salvador (for men) is not bad, but there's nothing exceptional about it either and I agree with the other reviews for it that can be found separately on this site.

Now the good news: Salvador Dali (I think it's intended for women, but it's definitely unisex as far as I'm concerned) is to die for. I already wrote and submitted a review for this that has not yet been posted, so I won't repeat myself here.

The final scent is Salvador Dali for men, which all of the reviews on this page are for. Marketed to men, I see this one as unisex as well. As you can see from the previous reviews, you'll either like this or you'll hate it. It's definitely strange and almost undefinalble. Someone mentioned the smell of blood. This may sound weird, but as I moved about this evening I caught a whiff of the scent and that's exactly what came to mind. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, just surprising and strange. Shortly after I applied it earlier today, it started smelling like something I was already familiar with. Then it hit me that this is similar in smell and strangeness to Vera Kern's "Onda" (which I also reviewed in the same review as Guerlain's Djedi that has not been posted yet). S. D. came first, but Vera Kern's Onda is much more pungent and assertive. Those of you who don't like this will probably hate Onda, which I think is wonderful.

Since this review is really for Salvador Dali for Men I'll just rate that one. I give it a thumbs up.

I have a small partial bottle of the EDT and I agree totally with Purplebird7. This is so beautiful when it first goes on, but I can't really enjoy it as much when that black pepper note kicks in. At first I was thinking that the problem may have been something in the make up of the EDT and was about to purchase a a bottle of the EDP, however, after I read Purplebird7's review it made sense that it was a pepper note that I was having a problem with. I keep wanting to push it out of the way so I can enjoy the other notes. I can respect that the perfume's creator made a creative choice to add this note, and judging from all of the positive reviews, it works for a lot of people. It just doesn't work for me.

This is a review for Bandit EDP and Parfum, but it's also an update on the review I did yesterday for Tabac Blond and Habanita. But first a story that perfume junkie/hunters everywhere can appreciate: Yesterday I had one of those "Oprah Moments" (a term sarcastically coined by my good friend after catching a show where Oprah featured guests who write books on how you can bring anything you want into your life by simply visualizing it). Well yesterday I had an Oprah moment: I had just finished writing the review for Habanita and Tabac Blond in which I said that I would do update as soon as my sample of Bandit arrived (it hasn't). Having already experienced Habanita and Tabac Blond, I was fixated on Bandit which I had yet to smell. Just then a friend called and said that she was headed down to a shop we frequent that sells vintage furniture and other miscellaneous vintage odds and ends. I asked her to look out for some old perfumes and call me if they had anything, even though I really wasn't expecting that she would find anything that I would want. About 2 hours later my friend rang me up on her cell phone from the shop. She said, "I'm holding two black bottles. They're the same, except one has a black top and the other one has a clear top. They're by a Robert (she started spelling) P-i-g-u-e-t." Silence (from disbelief) on my end for a moment. "Spell that again" I said. She does, then says, "They're called Bandit. Bill (the owner) said you can have them both for $3. apiece." I'll be right over", I said.

Sure enough, within several minutes I had my hands on a 50 ml bottle of Bandit EDP and a 30 ml bottle of the pure parfum. I put them both on immediately.

All the posts that I've read about this scent are right when they say that there can be a world of difference when it comes to the EDP and the parfum versions of this scent. On first opening the bottles, the parfum smells more green/floral while the EDP has a spicier vetiver edge. Once sprayed and dabbed on, the EDP was much more aggressive while the parfum, after an initial harsh blast, immediately became a skin scent. After about 45 minutes the parfum had settled into a smooth and dry, subtle leather scent while the EDP became slightly sweet, spicy/vanillic with a leather edge, almost gourmand on my skin.Between the two, I prefer the EDP, but as the day wore on I experimented and found that the two layered, create something even more beautiful.

As with Habanita and Tabac Blond, I am now in love with Bandit and glad I own all three. All are beautiful, dark and mysterious. But how do they compare? Like I said in my previous review, from everything that I had read before I tried it, Bandit was supposed to be the real badass. I'll admit she's a pretty assassin (Angelina Jolie in "Wanted" or "Mr. and Mrs. Smith), but if these 3 leather-clad femme fatales were walking down a dark alley together, TABAC BLOND would be the one leading the way, with either a cigarette or a cigar dangling out of the side of her mouth.

Please see my review for TABAC BLOND as I have reviewed them together.

I would love to have a vintage versions of Tabac Blond, Habanita and Bandit, but so far I've only experienced the Habanita EDT (I've had a 33 year love affair with this one ever since I discovered an ad for a sample in the back of a Vogue magazine at age 17) and the pure parfum sample of Tabac Blond that I recently aquired. Of the 3 scents previously mentioned, Bandit has the reputation of being the real badass, but I wouldn't know as I have yet to smell it (I have a sample on the way as I write this).

As with Habanita, I have fallen in love with Tabac Blond. Tabac Blond opens spicier (like lots of cloves) while Habanita moves quickly to a more dry, peachy, powdery place with the leather emerging much later. The tabacco in Tabac Blond is more evident from start to finish. Both scents are dark and mysterious, but of the two, Tabac Blond is smokier. Both are femme fatales, but while Tabac Blond lets you know right from the start that she's aiming to do you in, Habanita first seduces you with "innocent" powdery softness, drawing you closer, then she whips out her pistol.

I may edit this review once I receive my sample of Bandit.

When I first received the sample a few weeks ago and tried it, I had to scrub it off. However, I agree with foetidus: this scent has to be tested thoroughly before you can really make up your mind about it. Something compelled me to pull it out again last night. I was surprised at how differently I responded to it this time. I went to sleep smelling my wrists. In the morning the drydown was quite beautiful. I just re-applied and I am really enjoying it as I type this. This is a masculine scent, but I'm just the kind of woman who can pull it off. This is not a scent that I would wear every day, but would save it for those occasions when I want to throw people off a bit...jar their senses a little by wearing a scent that's totally unexpected on a woman. An art opening or a party would be the perfect place.

When first applied this scent smells either like some strange, pungent cheese, or like someone just got off of a spinning ride at Coney Island and vomited. The kicker is that I love this stuff, because after a few patient minutes, those initial notes pass and what emerges is the fine rich leather that this sent is supposed to be about. However, simultaneously you get something like a used ashtray and fresh human sweat note that creates a kind of biker bar atmosphere around you. By now you're probably looking at that "Thumbs up" icon to the right of this review thinking "huh?", but what ties it all together is the warm rose that weaves in and out of the leather the whole time. This scent is NOT for the shy or reserved. Male or female, you have to have a sense of humor to carry this off. It has a real personality that creates a whole performance as you wear it, featuring seedy characters making cameo appearances and all.If I had to campare it to something else, I'd say Dzing! but with black leather arm bands with metal studs and a little less underlying sweetness.

This brings to mind the old saying: "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach." I'm giggling as I write this because I have a story to help me plead my case for this scent. A smitten man recently spoiled me by taking me to Brennan's in New Orleans for the famous breakfast which included their trademark dessert "Bananas Foster" Since the dessert is prepared by your waiter right at the side of your table, you get to see the point where he douses the ingredients (ripe bananas, butter, brown sugar, etc.) with brandy (or was it rum?) and sets it aflame before pouring the piping hot mixture over French vanilla ice cream and serving you. We smiled with delight and satisfaction as we savored each spoonful (I'm going off on a romance novel tangent here, but this is all true). And as if that wasn't enough, when we finished, they brought us (compliments of the house) a single helping of the bread pudding with praline sauce and two spoons. When I first applied Sweet Oriental Dream, that day at Brennan's and all the wonderful smells created by those desserts immediately came to mind, so anybody who says that scents don't trigger memories is either lying or in denial. I KNOW that when he smells this he's going to think of that day too. This is a scent has a playful humor to it. Some scents should be vehicles for triggering memories and creating new olfactory experiences and Sweet Oriental Dream definitely does that. And, if it does nothing else it sends the signal that YOU'RE good enough to eat.

The opening: Rum and wood - I'm up to no good! There's a strange sort of dissonance among the notes (in a good way) that evokes mystery and mischief. For the most part warm spices and woods are the focus here with the rum wafting in and out. Definitely unisex but IMO it falls a little more on the masculine side and that's okay. If you want to throw sombody off balance, wear this.

The opening, for me, was all hay and pepper, very dry. A little later, warm incense and wood emerged, but didn't stay around long enough for me. It finally settled into something like pimento and orrisroot. I wanted to like this because every description of it that I'd read on perfume websites made me imagine that it would be a scent that was right up my alley, but in the end I just couldn't get into it. It stayed way too dry and distant for my tastes.

Of all the Serge Lutens I've tried, this one is the one that seems to fall firmly in the "masculine" for me. I say this because it's a wee bit too green and woodsy and never strays to far from those notes, making it as linear as most of the other men's department store scents that I don't care for. As I wore it, it did remind me of walking through a forest in the fall, smelling pine in the air and the fallen leaves and earth of the forest floor. Now, I'm not one of those girly girls, I'll wear a scent meant for a man in a minute, if I like it, but there are some things even I can't pull off. I imagine this would smell really great on some rugged outdoorsy man.

If Muscs Koublai Khan is your holy grail of musks, but either you can't afford that bell jar, or you still saving up for it, Kiehl's Original musk is great to have around in the meantime. Kiehl's isn't as full and complex as MKK, but it's beautiful none the less and comes closer to MKK then any other musk that I've experienced. Sometimes I spritz Kiehl's on one wrist and dab MKK on the other. It's nice to be able to sniff at them both all day.

Rose-centered perfumes are usually not my cup of tea. While I appreciate the smell of a rose while it's still on the bush, I don't find the smell seductive and I have no desire to smell like one. If you asked me before I sampled Sa Majeste la Rose I would have said that you had to put a gun to my head to get me to try on any scent with "Rose" in its name. However, when it comes to any scent by Serge Lutens I always keep an open mind. My thoughts on this one: A heck of a lot of rose in the beginning, but several minutes later the honey and clove emerge, bringing a creamy spicyness that balances the bitterness of the rose and I found myself smelling my wrist over and over again as the evening wore on. This isn't your grandmother's rose perfume. This is odd to the point of being both baffling and beguiling. I wouldn't say that this one is bottle worthy for me, but if someone passed me on the street wearing this, I would stop them and ask them what they're wearing.