Total Reviews: 49
Venus at her Mirror : Diego Velázquez
Fragrance - Léon Frédéric - 1894
30th October, 2016 (last edited: 05th April, 2017)
Warm, rich, centred somewhere around the loins, Une Fleur de Cassie is a dark animalic floral of considerable complexity. That is not to deny its immediate impact – I rather suspect it is one of those love or hate affairs for most people. It’s bold, it wears its furs like it doesn’t care, and yet the care lavished on its detail is evident.
From the ever shifting gradations of its floral bouquet, to the pungency of cumin and a thyme-like note nurtured in its bosom, to powders drifting in its scent trail, hints of smoke and fine grained woods, Une Fleur de Cassie is warm, warm, warm. It’s the warmth of a carnal embrace and one may not want that all the time, but in the mood it’s just the thing. Opulent without being tricksy or pushy, its chief gift is a lusty sophistication that is quite uncommon.
Projection drops considerably after the first two hours.
Ropion knows how to make monster florals. Ysatis, Amarige, Alien. Jarring and disturbing to some, ravishing to others. (Count me in the disturbed category.) The key is in the synth-natural play of Ropion’s aesthetic. Take Amarige and Alien (co-authored with Laurent Bruyère). They are considered versions of the soliflor yet to my nose they are so unequivocally chemical in tone as to be science-fiction. Ropion’s mainstream florals are so exaggerated, so counterbalanced with potent synthetics that they can seem brittle. They might pay lip service to flowers, but their magnitude and mathematical sense of proportion mark them as artificial. The hyperbole of the accords will read as graceful to some and as frightening to others. If a flower is like a folk song, Ropion’s florals are Farinelli singing to Louis XV at Versailles.
Ropion puts his ability to leverage floral tones to excellent use in Une Fleur de Cassie. It lacks the stiffness of Ysatis and the shrillness of Amarige but is equally, and proudly, as synthetic as either of the two. The name name might lead you to believe it’s an attempt at a soliflor, but the mix of an odd botanical note like cassie/mimosa with heavy synthetics makes Une Fleur de Cassie a cyborg of a perfume. It pairs scents of mud and metal, cinnamon and slate, almond and glue. The the bold use of seemingly disparate tones gives Une Fleur de Cassie a deep saturation. The balance of large strokes and detail allows it to be as large as Ysatis’s bouquet but far less overdressed.
Une Fleur de Cassie showcases Ropion’s strength at calculating olfactory effects to the umpteenth decimal point. It is a remarkably intricate and precise perfume but the complexity doesn’t lead to obscurity. You don’t need a vocabulary of notes to read Une Fleur de Cassie. The legibility is in the clarity and accuracy of the olfactory aesthetics, not in the list of notes. To lean further into the opera analogy, Une Fleur de Cassie offers a satisfying experience whether you’ve read the libretto or not.
For some perfumers working with a prestigious niche house is the opportunity to branch out from the obligatory mainstream sensibilities of their day jobs. For Ropion its a chance to hunker down and dig more deeply into a genre he’s known for. Frédéric Malle’s approach to art direction is to give the perfumer the resources to pursue his own direction and then to engage in a discussion during the perfume’s creation. It is a measured approach, one that favors a thoughtful composition over an outrageous one. Une Fleur de Cassie’s success is likely due to both Malle’s and Ropion’s input and was one of the perfumes that put the Malle brand at the center of attention when the line launched in 2000.
Advertisement — Reviews continue below
This is an easy thumbs up, and a contender for a future purchase. It leans feminine to me, a flowery leather.
24th February, 2016 (last edited: 25th February, 2016)
So far, this is the only scent from the well-loved Malle line that I can really appreciate.
UFdC starts out with a natural-smelling mimosa—buttery yellow, somewhat stemmy, a bit oily. However, there’s a grain-like substantiality beneath it—a kind of meal effect that counters the mimosa and elevates the scent above that of a simple floral portrait. Wearing it is peculiar in that it tricks you into thinking it’s a simple linear accord when, in fact, there’s a lot going on to sustain the effect it produces.
While there’s a slight sourness upfront (cuminaldehyde, I suspect), the fragrance is generally warm—almost nutritious-smelling without being a gourmand; a textural, haptic kind of thing akin to a powdered shrub crossed with almonds and glue. It smells, to me, a bit like an untenanted field, or even a pile of discarded flowers left to rot in a damp space. This is the kind of scent that draws you in based on morbid curiosity, and then succeeds in convincing you that its unorthodox beauty is more durable and substantive than that of “prettier” flowers—the kind of beauty that's stoic, learned, and lasting. It’s not traditionally “nice," but it’s moving all the same.
I find it to be less of an abstract composition, and it doesn’t feel particularly tied to a time period to me, but it does trigger in my mind the painterly style of impressionism. There are great dynamics within it—golden hues and glimmers of light—yet it never really permits you to gain a complete grasp of what it’s doing. Variants of the image it conjures up slip back and forth like an olfactory View-Master, but the enveloping impression remains throughout—buttery, indolic, golden yellow, desaturated sepia. A bit musty and sour, and there’s little superficial appeal to be found, but this is rewardingly original—the kind of thing you’ll want to smell again and again just to remind yourself that such a scent is a thing that exists in the world.
And finally I found the first Malle for which I can truly and openly say "I really dig this". I still consider this house the quintessence of overpriced pretentiousness, but this time, they nailed it completely. Fleur de Cassie is a powerful, nostalgic, majestic, incredibly refined rich floral scent, really pleasant, distinguished, carnal but clean and luminous, at the same time discreet and refined but dense, deep, substantial and sensual. It has some synthetic nuances (eugenol, Iso E, a slightly unpleasant sort of industrial-camphor feel), but here they manage to appear somehow fit for the composition, like if they provided an undertone of "aseptic modernity" to a really classic composition. Perhaps it's not intentional, but to my nose, it just works. Apart from this, Fleur de Cassie is all about botanical, celestial whiteness, in all its nuances, from innocent to carnal, beautifully contrasting with a subtle woody-smoky accord which emerges after a while. The richer and most interesting note is probably the mimosa, with all its beautiful facets: earthy, tobacco, sweet, mossy. To a certain aspect, as I said, it's a rather classic scent, almost conventional, but it manages to bring in something new and original – I don't know what precisely, it just smells memorable and recognizable, even if most of the accords are quite common. And most of all, it smells undeniably great, compelling and rich.
Une Fleur de Cassie smells amazing to me. There are many controversial reviews on this one. To me it is not challenging in the least. It is a modern twist on the classic powdery fragrance and smells much more natural and softer than the aldehydic classics we love.
In the beginning it smells like cardboard but when it dries down you can smell some spice and the delicate scent of mimosa flowers which adds some sweetness and cheer to the blend.Delightful!
Worthy of at least one sniff.
Talk about love-it-or-hate-it! Of course, every time a scent splits opinions as thoroughly as Un Fleur de Cassie, I'll be next in line to try it. The cassie blossom has a musty, foetid quality about it that's frankly more animal than floral. It's a note of decay, like the abandoned lair of a large mammal. I'll wager that it's this animalic edge that makes Un Fleur de Cassie such a controversial fragrnace.
The top notes are deceptive: jasmine and rose are first out of the gate. The notes are well rendered and blended, but in and of themselves they're nothing special. Then the cassie comes roaring past from behind though, and its earthy, even dirty influence runs the floral accord off the track and into uncharted territory.
A well judged touch of mimosa contributes some sparkle to the dark cassie, while the rose and jasmine meld with an exceptionally creamy sandalwood below. We've come a long way from the seemingly innocent opening, and anyone expecting a "pretty" floral will be sorely disappointed, if not utterly repulsed.
There is a beauty to Un Fleur de Cassie, but it's of the dangerous kind found in scents like Yatagan and Muscs Koublaï Khan. The drydown is another surprise, with a very light powder and vanilla hovering above the soft sandalwood, all anchored by the murky shadow of the cassie note.
The sandalwood in Un Fleur de Cassie is much like the one Ropion employs in Carnal Flower. In fact, Un Fleur de Cassie could be the dark doppelganger to Carnal Flower, earthy and slightly threatening where its counterpart is sublime and ethereal. Un Fleur de Cassie will always be the ugly stepsiter of the two, but then I'm not often in a fairy princess kind of mood.
If this description hasn't turned your stomach, give Un Fleur de Cassie a try. Just give it enough time to drop its floral mask and reveal its true nature.
This is a perfume that is educating my nose, one sniff at a time. I really didn't know what I was smelling and I had to test it out for an entire week before I could comfortably come to a conclusion on the notes I was smelling or how I even felt about it. If this perfume had a Facebook page, its status would read "It's Complicated".
So, it opens up with a huge white and yellow floral note that is quite heady and indolic. The first thing that came to mind was "Casablanca lilies" and felt so proud of myself for being able to pinpoint one of the notes.....wrong!! Bad nose, bad nose - pay more attention in class! This is ylang ylang. I mistook it for Casablanca lilies because ylang ylang is blended with those lilies in Acqua Allegorica Lys Soleia. This part made my heart sink - Lys Soleia, although I own it and is perfectly nice, is something I bought early on in my perfume quest, before I realized that I don't like solar or tropical scents that much.
But what I did appreciate when I first smelled Lys Soleia and what I do still appreciate in the opening of Une Fleur, is that this note of Ylang Ylang is rendered so naturally as if I were standing in a florist's shop and sticking my head into a vase of flowers. The impression is sticky, heady, indolic, almost over ripe, and you also get a realistic (albeit unsettling) whiff of the dank vase water in which the flowers sit. There is also quite a big dollop of a natural jasmine here too, a note I like better.
The scent quickly shifts past this stage, and goes into the heart of the powdery, mealy smell of mimosa, or what I take to be mimosa. The only other vaguely mimosa scent I had ever smelled was YSL Cinema, and this is not similar at all. The mimosa here is dry, powdery, and oily all at the same time. It is a strange smell, not really floral at all, and in fact it reminds me a bit of wheaten flour, or raw dough, almost like the bready top note in the current Mitsouko EDP. The flour is mixed through with dusty cumin, and you can perceive this quite strongly. It is not all that offensive though, and I happen to like using cumin in my cooking (although my husband and son run from the kitchen when I use it.)
This dry, dusty flour mixture is sprinkled on top of the remainders of the lush tropical flowers, which are still wet and almost disintegrating because they are over ripe. So you get a dance between dry, powdery mimosa and cumin, and the wet, indolic white and yellow flowers. I don't get any violets. Violets???
I am so impressed at how this scent melds into one fragrant fug that hangs around your body like a cloud. It lasts all day. This is a serious, intellectual, shape-shifting perfume. The parts are separate and then melded, and now fly away into separate notes again. I love it. I am considering which one of my children I should sell to get my mitts on a full bottle.
In summary: ylang ylang, jasmine, indoles, solar, wet, over ripe - shifting into dry, bready, mealy mimosa flour, dusty cumin - a clove note here and there.....I give up. I don't have the vocabulary or the skill to describe this fragrance. It may not be the one for you - but I implore you: try this at least once in your life. And by which I mean, not one day but a series of seven days. And then make up your mind.
My first reaction on applying this was; "Wow! Big, animalic, leathery floral!" The cumin gives the opening a wonderfully dirty undertone, without being at all offensive. After an hour or two, it all quietens down into a soft, creamy-powdery mimosa with a touch of peppery violets. The base is suede-like in texture, with a hint of musk. The overall impression is of a golden-yellow colour, with little patches of purple from the violets; the colour of spring.
When l first tried this in cold weather, it seemed a very quiet fragrance after that first couple of hours. But on warmer days it really blooms, & it lasts over ten hours on me. Wonderful.
Despite its many notes, this smells to my nose like untreated fleece - from a sheep's hide, also a little dark like a leather with a bit of tart rubber thrown in for good measure.
Not very nice at all. Luckily, it disappears in minutes.
How can so many notes, all smelling wonderfully on their own, come to so little when combined. It's like a drawing where every color has had its chance to cover another color until they're all there and all you can see is black.
They say you have to take time to understand this. true .I worked for years in the niche perfumery but with this I have trouble finding words. when I smelled it first I could hardly tell what it smelled like. But it smelled deliciously French, rich and chic..... yet it smelled antique and like a wiff from the old world.... without being dusty or old fashioned. it was as if you look at a painting of Lempicka.... and suddenly are standing in it. It felt as if your grandma shows you a photograph of herself as a young girl in the 1940s.... and then suddenly you are in the photograph with her. Antique and new at the same time. Like a seal never broken. This fragrance is sth so original , I cant compare it to any other fragrance I know or own. It is as if You found out what an apple tasted hundred years ago, what a new hat in the twenties felt like wearing. Fleur de Cassie feels like sth that comes out of a time when things still createdemotions in people.....
out of the world yet part of it. wonderful!!
Like the flight of an albatross, this one. Such heavy molecules to become airborne - and it’s an effort - but after some lumbering along the ground and some ungainly flapping it finds my thermals and flies!
And there it is, aloft. Flying for what seems an unreasonable time, this beauty is such a resolved whole it seems that evolutionary forces are responsible in bringing about an entity so fit for its purpose.
Its purpose? To soar. That it brings me pleasure through its being seems an irrelevant aside to its joyous existence. Certainly not all its aspects are uncomplicated or simply pleasing, but there is much simple pleasure herein. It rises far above mere prettiness; I would certainly not call it accessible.
That I am by turns and simultaneously aware of the details and the whole is a brilliant work of balance. I am aware of an effortless grace, of a creaminess, of a softness, of an intimate warm animal smell, of a distant elegance. From some angles I see that extraordinary wingspan, if I turn my head I catch the beaked profile or the curve of primary feathers, the tucked webbed feet that indicate this bird can (but doesn’t often) come to ground or water.
Always it appears a live, breathing thing. In scent, something like the smell of sweat on my skin after sweet debauchery.
A creation that brings me to tears with its sheer magnificence.
Advertisement — Reviews continue below
Entrancing botanical opening of white flowers (starring a heady and realistic jasmine) with cumin briefly screaming human sensuality. I mean that in a very specific way that I am not comfortable sharing in a review, although I will say it is not b.o., rather it is something better and more personal. The cassie and mimosa probably deserve more mention than I am capable of making. The cumin fades pretty quickly; I wouldn't mind it sticking around longer. Far from being off-putting, it is a key component to the genius of the opening. The arrival of roses adds a dusky character, while the violets simultaneously add light. Of course, these are merely metaphors; there is no confusion or tension in the fragrance, which at this point situates the wearer in some imaginary, dewey spring arbor, including all the greenness implicit in such a setting. Strangely, the cumin returns, doing more of what it did before, with the effect being more towards animalic, but only briefly so, as it shortly hides again. Everything keeps changing, in a sense of shadow and light, and generally it just gets better and better. Just as you think you have reached the magical plateau, the composition turns an unseen corner and begins to climb again. As some have indicated, there are longevity issues. Dabbing, I get about three good hours of activity, with a fairly abrupt ending. Perhaps spraying this would give a different result (perhaps, too, I am being stingy with this precious liquid). Oddly, pleasantly, elements of the top notes persist and permutate throughout.
I usually regard nearly everything as unisex, and this is no exception, although I imagine more women would want to smell like this than would men. As a man, I love wearing this, yet, as a man, I love this even more on my wife. In any case, this is among the finest bottled fragrances I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, on par with, if not at least more interesting than Carnal Flower. Convincing on every level. Curse you, Mr. Malle, for pricing your potions so far out of my reach.
EDIT: it seems prudent to add that warmer environments will really bring out the spices in this, making it perhaps more challenging for some. On a warm day, I find this is still fantastic, but am likely to choose this more frequently in cooler weather.
10th April, 2013 (last edited: 30th April, 2013)
at the opening it reminds me a lot of Apres L ondee, mimosa flower is one of the most femminine one to my nose.
The composition itslef reminds me a lot of Patricia Nicolais Le temps d une Fete, the musky base here is much more soapy and clean, i dont get anything animalic, its a little bit more fruity in the dry down, and bit less preaty then in the opening to me :)
very mild and gentle frag, for women, beautiful composition but not very longlasting....and in the dry down a bit too synthetic to me
This sounded like something I'd really like. But it had a deal-breaker that's common for me - I reacted to a chemical/molecule adversely.
This one became murky and cloudy in an unpleasant way. The vapor was mildly off-putting, indistinct. It began exhibiting a tendency that's become familiar to me - when it's a chemical reaction, I tend to not be able to smell separate notes or nuances, anymore. The entire fragrance is characterized by a 'synthetic' overlay, like a blanket. This happened with Chanel No. 5 also.
The truth is I have absolutely no idea about what the primary ingredient "Cassie" smells like... That said, what I *do* know is I love Une Fleur de Cassie, and enjoy wearing it plenty.
The brief but incredible opening has mild jasmine, coupled with subtle bergamot and mimosa accents. Soon after, I detect a dollop of cumin is added to a subdued but persistent rose heart that keeps the scent dark and somewhat dirty. The cumin has a bit of the dreaded "BO" note I tend to run from in fragrances, but unlike most scents with that note, Ropion has masterfully held the cumin just enough in-check to convey the dirtiness of the florals without being off-putting. I am also getting a nice dose of violet, and even quite a bit of carnation in the heart of the scent (even though carnation is not a listed note). The rose hangs around through the base notes, while joined primarily by musk to keep Une Fleur de Cassie's dark nature at the fore. Projection is average to slightly below average, but the scent has very good staying power.
As to the marketing of the scent, while this page says "feminine," I definitely find it unisex and I would not hesitate to wear this as a member of either sex. I love Une Fleur de Cassie, and while I may not know if it achieves the true character of the Cassie flower, I can highly recommend it regardless. I am starting to come to the conclusion that Dominique Ropion has become my favorite living modern-day parfumier. Brilliant! 4 to 4.5 stars out of 5.
26th March, 2012 (last edited: 21st December, 2012)
Une Fleur de Cassie by Frederic Malle - Upon application, one is treated to a rapturous array of florals; the inspiration of which is mind-blowing. Cassie, with its somewhat green, sweetish and ever so slightly powdery facets, mimosa, with its woody, toothsome, flowery character, carnation, with its intense spiciness, and an indolic jasmine, with its heightened decay, all march through the stepped phases of the birth and death of poignant floracy. The delicate innocence, the arousing nubility, the fetid rot, all present. Transitioning to waiting heart, a fascinating melange of a faintly soapy and honeyed rose, the fresh, green sweetness of violet, as well as the fruitiness of apricot, all commingle and lift the versatile cassie. A musty and sour clove as well as a sensual and sweat-like cumin dirty the mixture with their illusion of body odor and secretions. Magical aldehydes enliven the brew with their brillance, while bewitching salicylates add their brightening, fabric softener character. Segueing to the awaiting base, a slightly spicy and dry cedar interplays with a smooth and creamy sandalwood, while a sweetly vanillic musk lightly graces their interaction. A polished drydown ensues. Masterfully blended, this paradoxically awesome composition has good projection and very good longevity.
Truly DIFFERENT. And at this point in developing my wardrobe, that is what I am looking for. I was not in search of this fragrance, but rather given it in the very generous stack of samples from Robin and Mona, AWESOME SAs at Barneys Las Vegas!
Pretty spicy on top: I don't usually appreciate cloves but it is totally working here. Trying to discern exactly what is the rare Cassie flower in here...but it is different, and right now I like that. "like a haute couture gown" reads the sample card. Fitting for Vegas.
This is simply brilliant. A great example of what real perfumery is. A perfect machine where all the parts work meticolously, in their own place, with an incredible timing, in the right way. Une Fleur De Cassie is the total oppsite of minimalism but is so well orchestrated that all you can do is take your hats off and appreciate it.
A dirty-floral composition almost animalic with a pretty usual pyramid but with an unique smell. If this is not skill, you tell me what it is...A masterwork and a must try for everybody.
31st March, 2011 (last edited: 08th November, 2011)
I'm Openmouthed with this stuff....
Yes, it takes time to be understood, mostly to appreciate its beauty: I'm wearing it for 2 months and it still stunnes me every time, some side-effects change (really!!) depending
1.on the part of the body you put it on,
2.if you put it on just after the shower or not (I swear it works nicely with the soft sweat that emerges to cool the skin surface = it's one of that /in best way/ 'dirty scents'),
real multifaceted, chamaleonic scent!
This is "The Living Skin" (;)
-greetings to the spirit of the E.L.O.-
One of the most a-m-a-z-i-n-g scent symphonies I ever smelled.
My favorite part is the "calmer, floral, (some anised-mimosa/violet!!) touches" of the middle notes up to the drydown... but the opening, what can I say about the opening! soooooo WILD... huh???? FEMALE in a bottle... IT really smells of female in animalic way = Erotic in an overpowering, femme fatale type of way... It's the kind of perfume which evokes sex!
nice drydown as well: subtle misty veil that sometimes can make you think that scent is gone, but hey don't be wrong: is still 'there', like a whisper.
... highly recommended, thumbs up forever !!
23rd March, 2011 (last edited: 31st March, 2011)
On the Love/Hate Seesaw, I am definitely on the love side. As a fragrance gardener, I am drawn first to to the deceptively uninvolved jasmine and rose teaser, a bit like flowers at the garden gate, beckoning me to enter. Once inside, the reality of the garden presents itself full-force; and that includes the sweet/acrid foetid smell of rotting plants that have lived out their lives and are now re-entering the earth. An exquisite powdery mimosa acts in consort rather than sharp contrast to the foetid qualities of the cassie, completing the life cycle with its innocent sweetness. Like a good garden with foundation trees, a slightly aging sandalwood provides permanence and stability.
This one's definitely on my "to buy" list.
Actually, I am not really into flowers... in particular not white 'innocent' ones. This is completely different. The mood of this fragrance is somewhat a deep lilac with occasional darker shades, probably. I absolutely adored it when I first sniffed it in the store. This so beautiful! I can't see anything fecal or whatever mentioned in some of the reviews here. This is a real beauty - such a densely woven, rich and unique scent (unfortunately, I can't remember the smell of acacia/mimosa when I happened to see it in nature in full bloom). I can't say much more than: I ADORE it. It is probably in my Top 3 of all time. Back-up bottle worthy for me!
I was curious about this scent because of the fabulously descriptive reviews, but felt like I approached it wearing blinders.
It's not that i dont get this one, I just don't have an opinion on it. I had to wear it four times before reviewing because I'm putting it on, and yes i can smell it, but it doesn't last long enough to evaluate.
This is not a scent i dislike, this is not a scent that I love. This is just a scent that i tried.
It opens big and yellow for me; quite sweet actually, and this phase I'm 'eh' about. I don't get a dry down, but I do have something lingering on my clothes. I can't say this is musky, and I can't say it's dirty body-like, it's just a scent that is hanging on my clothes.
hmm... sorry, I don't have anything more to add for this one.
To summarize- Une Fleur de Cassie- nothing to be afraid of. No cat pee, no air pollution ,no skank !
Opening notes- green floral,soft and then it takes on a floral powder which becomes bigger.It reminds me of a 1930s woman sitting at her vanity - a mixture of perfume ,flowers and powder. It's a beautiful vintage smelling scent.
Instead of the air pollution note, I get a kind of haziness, a fogginess which reminds me of an impressionist style painting by Jan Blencowe .
The whole perfume is a kind of floral, violetty haze, lightly sweet, delicate. There is an underscore of green throughout which I like ,it cuts through that foggy flower note.
Beautiful ,so different form Carnal Flower which has a different beauty and appeal .
Carnal Flower - bold, cold yet warm ,full blown in your face tuberose.
Une Fleur de Cassie- whispery, powdery , sweet woman's skin.
Update : 2 years later, I bought the big bottle. In between I tried nearly all of the Frederic Malle line . I believe this one is my favorite along with Carnal Flower.
As a really personal scent, Une Fleur de Cassie wins over Carnal Flower.
Une Fleur de Cassie is an absolute jewel of a perfume . Rare this days .
STILL no bestial or animalic elements apparent to me in this scent. If you love L'Heure Bleue and Apres L'ondee - then try this one. if you adore Mimosa, Cassie- try this one.
20th April, 2010 (last edited: 16th July, 2012)
Another wonderful Frederic Malle scent. So wonderfully deep and complex, I'm absolutely impressed. It starts out like a far more refined Kingdom but the development is just marvelous. I love it.
To the uninitiated UNE FLEUR DE CASSIE may come across as crass, vulgar even, and all those earlier references to bodily orifices seem to have more than an iota of truth in them. Who on Earth would ever want to smell like this? But others may find the funky mix of florals, spices and musk oddly erotic, a scent reminiscent of sex (?). Or for nature lovers it could just be the scent of wild flowers and fallen petals in various phases of decay. In any case I find myself going through love, hate, reconciliation but eventually, resignation and separation. This is just not for me. While its artistry is undeniable and Ropion's execution flawless, IMO it's far too controversial when it doesn't need to be.
03rd November, 2009 (last edited: 04th November, 2009)
I do not know what cassie smells like, but I'm thinking it must be related to mimosa, as the fragrance this most strongly reminded me of was Caron's Farnesiana. It shares a curiously thick, doughy texture with that fragrance, but without the other gourmand elements found there. Instead, the flower-dough core is surrounded by car exhaust; smelling this is like smelling flowers by a highway, on a day with bad air pollution. It's not smoky, dark, dirty, animalic or even oddly petrochemical the way some fragrances are, but it is most assuredly smoggy, and this smog note is the first thing I notice about this fragrance and is - hopefully - its unique feature.
All in all, I find it very linear. It's a little "fresher" in the first few minutes, but there is no big difference between when it's put on and when it disappears ( twelve or so hours later, on me ). The sillage is moderate, and all in all this is in no way a big, luxuriant floral; in fact it's rather reserved. But then, I love big white florals, so I may have different standards than most!
One of my all time favourites. Bestial & rich, textured, voluptuous provocation. Big EFM fan, especially the edgy florals. After application, the tense rubbery industrial white floral trail opens its arms and releases the haunting emotive spice and hot skin note i seem to be constantly drawn to in scents. I keep returning to my own skin as the scent shifts and travels to its hovering vanillic echo of a end. As with nearly all the published Malle scents, the power is sometimes debatable. Some days it shocks me beautifully with it 30s music hall vulgarity, other days it just shimmers and fades. Extraordinary nontheless.
This is a stunning modern classic. Not only is this fragrance extremely faceted and complex, but it is beautifully powerful and coherent, true vintage that is a marked contemporary fragrance. Beautiful aldehydes and bergamote provide the opening counterpoint for a beautiful, woody violet note. All of this sits on a grand set of absolutes: mimosa, rose, jasmine, and cassie, an almost uncontrollable note.