Cruelty Free: Cravache by Robert Piguet
Unlike Marina, I've never had the pleasure of smelling the original version of this 2007 reissue from the newly revitalized house of Piguet. Reading her description, that's a pity; losing leather in a fragrance is in my opinion never a great idea. On the other hand since that version isn't readily available perhaps it's no bad thing that I don't have to compare that version to the new one.
I've actually been on the fence about this new version of Cravache for a while. For months now I've been casually spritzing myself with it at stores and thinking "really nice, but..." Not that it's not a lovely thing: the bright yet chilly citrus opening is as fresh and crisp as a brand new fine cotton dress shirt and the drydown does some interesting dances between warm spicy patch and cool lavender. It smells good in a masculine and well tailored way that whispers of quiet good taste. It's certainly not about the price, since these days $55 for 1.7 oz is practically like having shoplifting it, especially at places like Neiman Marcus, where you can get into some Clive Christian scents that cost more than a couple months rent.
I suppose that it's just that when the name Piguet is on the bottle I expect a bit more, well, ooomph. Fracas, love it or loathe it certainly isn't lacking in that department and even the new version of Bandit is true enough to the Cellier original to pack a considerable wallop.
But finally I did fall. Bandit and Fracas have that over-the-top film noir vibe to them; were Cravache a film from that era it would be "The Thin Man". You can easily imagine this is what William Powell would smell like as he effortlessly solved some convoluted crime, a Martini never far from reach, a sardonic quip at the ready, and Myrna Loy (wafting Futur no doubt) lounging on the chaise feeding Asta her olive.
Because even I want some quiet good taste once in a while.
$55 for 1.7oz, $85 for 3.4, at Neiman Marcus (where my bottle was purchased), Bergdorf Goodman and others.