Showing posts with label Guerlain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guerlain. Show all posts

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Sniff vs. Sniff: Shalimar EDP and Shalimar Parfum Initial


Another classic. My impression is that Guerlain's Shalimar is treated with fractionally less contempt by its keepers than poor Miss Dior, though that may only be due to the large population of women who know, by God, what Shalimar is supposed to smell like. To my mind, it's second only to Chanel No. 5 in population nose recognition. Of course, that reflects the age and prejudices of my nose. The most recognized and best-loved fragrance is probably really Angel or Lovely or Coco Mademoiselle or something I've never heard of.

Anyway, I want to learn to like Shalimar. Correction: If I'm ever going to like Shalimar, I want to start soon, while the current parfum is somewhat well-regarded and eBay is still packed with vintage and semi-vintage bottles. So far, I've failed to bond with it. In fact I'm nursing a minor Shalimar trauma, the result of encountering a spray parfum tester at Saks. My brain, rather than sitting me down to explain, "Parfum. Parfum. Do you remember what that means?" instead said, "Oooh!" and I snatched the bottle and applied a full spray.

Urgh. I think I've mentioned that even an hour or three later, Himself threatened to boot me out of the car and make me take the bus home. If I do learn to love Shalimar, I will be dabbing the parfum, not spraying.

Today, I'm working with fresh samples from the Vancouver, BC downtown Holt Renfrew. (We travelled. We ate. I bought perfume. Did I mention this?) The current Eau de Parfum (Shalimar, in the discussion below) is on my left arm, and the Parfum Initial (Initial) on my right. The Shalimar sprayer is broken, so the left arm is the equivalent of a dabber, rather than a spray, test.

The notes for Shalimar, according to Basenotes, are bergamot, iris, jasmine, rose, vanilla, opoponax, and tonka bean. Initial's notes are bergamot, orange, jasmine, rose, patchouli, musk, tonka bean, and vanilla.

When I first tried the Shalimar sample a few days ago, I perceived the top notes that came after the initial citrus sparkle as aggressively synthetic. This time I'm not so sure--what I'm categorizing as "synthetic" is a pencil-eraser, new-Barbie-doll note, and I know from experience that when I envision pencil erasers I'm smelling iris. I'm not sure what morphs that into the Barbie doll (aka New Rubbery/Plastic Toy) note; the opoponax? I'm assuming that this is what others perceive as burnt rubber.

Anyway, Shalimar's (this Shalimar's) opening is interesting, with strong acquired-taste elements, and not overly eager to please. In fact, it manages to make vanilla, one of the eagerest-to-please notes I know, back off and snarl, "Ya wanna make something of it?" I like that in a fragrance. Yes, I'm a cat person.

The top notes of Initial, on the other hand, are desperate to please. They smell pink. Sweet-sour. Flowery. I see a girl who's been costumed in scratchy pink ruffles and ordered to "Smile!" She's smiling, even giggling, but through clenched teeth. Now, I could give this scent credit for not being syrup-soaked fruit punch, but... I can't. I just can't.

In the first half hour, both of them calm down. Shalimar's vanilla starts to relax, with an occasional rattling purr, though it's still far from sweet-tempered. Initial's shriller notes start to fade--a little--under a veil of vanilla. The girl in pink has released her smile, found a chair, and slipped her feet out of tight shoes. But she still doesn't want to be here. And there's a tangy and faintly bitter thread that I perceive as an appropriate seasoning for a sweet or animalic note, but there's nothing here for it to season. It's the wedge of lemon without the clams, the salt without the steak, the olive without the martini, the lime and salt without the tequila...OK, you get the idea.

In fact--to digress to a completely different perfume line--it gives me a clue as to the purpose of that chewy, slightly meaty base that puzzles but pleases me in some of the Jo Malone fragrances. The fruity, tangy, flowery notes that define the Jo Malones are seasoning notes; they need that chewy base to give them a reason for being, as if the clams exist for the benefit of the lemon rather than the other way around.

Initial improves as time goes on. Remember Firefly? Remember Kaylee at the ball, miserable and snubbed by the mean girls, then suddenly finding her confidence at the center of a cluster of men who want to listen to her talk engines? Two hours in, Initial's morale improves. Soft, tangy powdery flowers are still soft, tangy powdery flowers, but now they smell good. I think that the difference is balance; the bitter-sour is now balanced just right against the vanilla and powder. It's no longer a condiment in search of an entree.

At the same point, Shalimar is still an ill-tempered, shaggy cat--relaxed, comfortably snoring, occasionally allowing me to stroke her warm vanilla-scented coat. But she still doesn't like me. I like her, but so far, I'm not getting a bit of glamor or even femininity. This is not the Shalimar I've read about.

Several hours after that, Shalimar is warm vanilla and rubber; still not friendly, but I like it. Initial's grown thinner, again sour without anything for balance, feminine but sad and very young. She wants to go home and put on her bunny slippers.


Review Roundup for Shalimar Parfum InitialBasenotes and MakeupAlley and Perfume Shrine and Bois de Jasmin and Now Smell This and Olfactoria's Travels and Katie Puckrick Smells and Muse In Wooden Shoes and Perfume-Smellin' Things and The Non-Blonde and 1000 Fragrances and The Perfume Critic  and Post Modern Perfume and cafleurebon and Adventures of Barbarella and Perfume Posse and The Scent Critic  and Perfume Decadent and The Candy Perfume Boy and peredepierre and This Blog Really Stinks and Persolaise.

Review Roundup for ShalimarBasenotes and MakeupAlley and Perfume Shrine and Bois de Jasmin and Now Smell This and Olfactoria's Travels and Katie Puckrick Smells and Muse in Wooden Shoes and Perfume-Smellin' Things and The Non-Blonde and it's weird that it's harder to find reviews of Shalimar than of her flankers, though I suppose there's some logic in it; most everybody already has an opinion of the original, right?

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

SOTD: Guerlain Mitsouko EDT

A busy day, so I didn't have time to pay attention to my latest Mitsouko Test. Himself reacted negatively to it when he walked into the room moments after I'd sprayed; I vaguely enjoyed the gasoline beginning, and then forgot all about it.

And the dry spell continues, so, more kitty!

Image: By Tomitheos. Wikimedia Commons.

Monday, November 22, 2010

SOTW: Mitsouko EDT (Modern), and Illusions



Musette has put me on the first step of the path to (possibly) loving Mitsouko. And, as an added bonus, Bois Blond.

I've always hated the smell of stale nuts or rancid oil. I seem to be particularly sensitive to that smell, so that when others are merrily enjoying nuts or a nutty pastry or something sauteed in oil of unknown age, I'm left wondering why they're not all joining me in saying, "eeew." I need my nuts to be so fresh that they have that almost-sweet scent, and I'm so picky about oil that Himself now has me sniff or taste the oil before we cook anything ambitious in it.

There are perfumes that have that stale nut scent. I've more than once noticed it in Bois Blond, and on Sunday when I tried Mitsouko again, I got a subtler version of it - subtler, but still dominating the fragrance for me.  I'm pretty sure that this is what's always put me off Mitsouko in the past.

Now, it's not as if that smell is inherently dreadful. The problem is that I associate it with food gone bad, and as long as that's true, it's dreadful for me. I've tried to dissociate it from food, but I've failed. Then Musette said this, about a "gasoline-edge" in Mitsouko. And then, on Sunday, I wore Mitsouko.

Oh. Yes. That note does definitely smell like gasoline. It smells like stale nuts, too; I can sniff it and let the interpretation go back and forth, like that picture up there. (Duck? Rabbit? Duck?) And just as I can decree that the picture is of a rabbit, I can choose to read that note as gasoline. And I'm OK with the scent of gasoline. It's weird, but I like weird. And it's not the least bit edible.

Now, this doesn't yet mean that I love Mitsouko, but it does mean that I can move past "Eew! Stale!" and have a shot at really perceiving it. This is a good thing. I owe you, Musette.

(As a side note, I've more than once mentioned getting a gasoline note from Tubereuse Criminelle. And I do still smell it, but it has essentially no resemblance to the gasoline note in Bois Blond. I don't get it.)

Image: Wikimedia Commons

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

SOTD: Guerlain Rose Barbare

Last time I wore this, I noticed fruit, with some bitterness, at the beginning, but referred to a bone-dry chypre-like rose as it developed.

This time it's all fruit all the time. Sweet fruit, like a peach-strawberry-orange.

I'm puzzled.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Monday, May 3, 2010

SOTD: Guerlain Rose Barbare


The rose quest continues!

Flittersniffer of Bonkers About Perfume pointed me to Guerlain Rose Barbare. After wearing it for a day I am, once again, Unsure. I suspect that all of these roses will require multiple wearings.

The first couple of hours are my favorite part. There are roses, of course, and something edible and... well, I want to say fruity, but I don't want to say fruity, because it doesn't have that sugary juicy summery feel about it. If you imagine crossing peach with a thick-skinned orange, this is what the peel might smell like - dense, slightly bitter, not too wet, and some sort of fruit that is neither peach or citrus.

After that, this fragrance settles into a dusty, slightly bitter chypre-like rose - bone dry, with a barely perceptible hint of unidentifiable spice. It's not one of Those Roses, but it's also not girly-fluttery. This combination of characteristics is a good omen for future wearings.

Review Roundup: Fragrantica and Bois de Jasmin and Perfume Shrine and Basenotes and Now Smell This and Aromascope and MakeupAlley and Nathan Branch and Perfume-Smellin' Things.

Image: By Korall. Wikimedia Commons.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

SOTD: None, and Last Saturday, and The Mall

Himself and I have a custom known as Last Saturday.

The idea is that discretionary purchases - DVDs and movie posters and murder mysteries and soap dishes and big-screen televisions and scrunchies and, yes, perfume - must occur on the last Saturday of the month. If a proposed purchase isn't basic groceries or an otherwise immediate need (like, say, the rainy season just started and we've discovered that all appropriate shoes have become worn and leaky), it waits for Last Saturday.

There are two reasons. First, the requirement to put off these purchases for a few days or weeks increases the likelihood that we'll decide that we don't actually need whatever it is. Second, when a month's worth of discretionary purchases are all piled up in one day, purchasing them all looks like financial suicide, so we're likely to do some cutting.

Today is Last Saturday.

Bwahaha.

Actually, no, so far it's been a very small Last Saturday. I say "so far" because there's one hour left, and the whole wide Internet is out there. But I was surprised that even though we stopped by the mall, on Last Saturday, very little self-control was required. I think that this is a sad, sad commentary on the state of department store fragrances. Actually, on the whole mall - they don't even have a bookstore any longer! - but I'm talking fragrances right now.

I ended up coming home with only two small perfume-related purchases:

A mini roll-on of the new L'Occitane Paeonia Eau de Toilette. The Nice Salesperson offered me a test strip of this, and I liked the grapefruit in the top notes, so I bought the mini with unseemly haste rather than wait until the next Last Saturday.

Fragrantica says that the notes for this one are bergamot, grapefruit zest, peony, rose petals, sandalwood, and musk. I mostly get the bergamot and grapefruit, which is just fine with me, though I'd be happy if the sandalwood came forward. It's a friendly little perfume, low projection, not too sweet, not too aggressively "fresh". I'm pleased that I bought it, though I think a mini is just about the right portion for me.

Speaking of minis, I very much like L'Occitane's choice to offer mini sprays or roll-ons or tins of many of their scents - that decision is responsible for almost every L'Occitane purchase that I've made.

The second purchase was a mini roll-on of Kiehl's Pear scented essence oil. Yum. When I first sniffed this I thought that it was a little cartoonish, but as time goes on it smells increasingly like a real, slightly overripe, pear. It's a note more than a perfume, but it's a very nice note.

And that's all. I did do my usual check on Tom Ford Velvet Gardenia, and it was gone. My thrashing around about this has been endless; I've wondered if I'd be relieved or dismayed if this disappeared before I bought a bottle. Turns out that I'm relieved. Whew.

And I tried a spray of Guerlain Jicky parfum. I can never resist an unexpected pure parfum tester, and I wanted to try the civet classic. Sadly, I don't like this any better than the Shalimar parfum that I tried a while ago - though this time Himself didn't threaten to evict me from the car. There's a common element in both - Guerlinade? - that I don't like at all.

So that's Last Saturday. So far.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.