It is beautifully soft and without the melancholy that sometimes pervades jasmin but has very little silage, especially compared to Miller Harris's other scents in this series (fleurs de sel, vetiver bourbon etc)
01st November, 2010 (last edited: 01st December, 2010)
Cedar. Pencil shavings. Old wooden pencil boxes. Very dry but not all that severe as the wood is warm/smoky. I'd prefer it as a room fragrance.
I too take the bus and felt the need of a 'polite' leather in my wardrobe. This is it. A bit dusty to start, lovely and soft in a gourmand way later on. Cuir de Lancome isn't earth shatteringly original but it works, with one foot in the past and another in the present.
I've smelt the reissue - it launched at Harrods, London, this week. It seemed rather sweet to me. I need to spend more time with it of course but would love to know how the new version compares with the old.
I wore this in my 20s/30s, it was sweet but cool. It's very distinctive - it has taken me months and months on perfume blogs to remember the name, but I can conjure up the fragrance in my mind easily. Honeyish, a teensy bit like Jonquil.
I get cherry and ice cream, like a perfume put together from a child's favourite smells, with underlying vetiver. Odd, a bit sickly, a bit moreish.
I love this, it really is like a second skin. The scent appears to appreciate your skin as you appreciate wearing it - like a strange cat sitting on your lap. I got a sample of Vrae Blonde at the same time, a lovely fragrance, but it didn't become a part of me in the same way.
Rien smells of suede and hot rubber with no sweetness but no sourness either; I find some leathers sour. It is not, to my nose, animalic. I find one has to wear it boldly; too little and it smells as if you've recently been smoking pot. But if you put on enough it is definitely a perfume, complex and well-integrated.
Pistachio kulfi on the strip - can't wait to try it on skin!
I get a combination of perfume and sweat, sometimes the perfume reminds me of leather, other times soap. And I think I too am falling in love. I have three comments to make about this perfume, bearing on its time of birth in 1944.
(a) It was released in wartime occupied France when soap was hard to get hold of, for some people with the 'wrong' ration cards impossible. That unwashed smell it releases and then covers over could have sent all sorts of messages, none of them to do with sex. It said 'outlaw' at a time when outlaw meant death.
(b) If ever a perfume was designed to repel the Aryan occupiers while attracting Frenchmen, this is it.
(c) I have never seen these comments or anything like them made before. Is there a politico-historical critique of perfume someone could point me to or have I just invented it?
This B scent took me a long time to get. To begin with it was just too weird and marmalade-like (I put Love in that category) but there was something endearing about it and eventually I realised it reminded me strongly of a honeyish tangerine scent I used to wear but whose name I can't remember. After a few more tries I thought I could identify toasted coconut mushrooms underneath the fruit and later still the cool pine that air-conditions the mixture. In the end it was still weird but truly lovely. I'll miss it.
I didn't realise I liked patchouli until I smelled this. It's gorgeous - earthy, dusty, sweet, gentle but grown up. There aren't enough subtle beauties like this around; I didn't think oriental and subtle could share the same sentence.
Yup, I smelt make-up and powder and saw an old fashioned dressing table. I liked this scent, it was pretty, warm and friendly (not like the ladies in Mad Men at all, then) but I never felt I had the right clothes to go with it. Definitely not for jeans-wearers.
Tried last week (April 2010) at Selfridges, London.
It's a happy fragrance, cute and edible, but it hung around forever on the skin and made me think of Selfridge's baklawa counter. I like the fact that it's not a serious scent initially, but on me it didn't develop beyond the smell of (top quality) syrupy pastry.
I wore this in the 70s in my teens, but mainly because it was one of only a few perfumes available where I lived. I remember it as sweet and fresh and perhaps slightly syrupy, orangey-pink in colour. It was different, though. Perhaps it was a floral in a field of hippy orientals and grown up chypres. To me it will always be a little sister scent.