Back To The Future With Mr. Morillas: Salvador Dali & Panthère de Cartier

By Donna For some reason I have really been appreciating the retro perfumes of the Eighties a lot more recently. Perhaps it’s time and distance, making me forget the horrors of Giorgio Beverly Hills and Christian Lacroix C’est La Vie, or maybe I just dismissed many of the better fragrances of the era, tarring them all with the same brush as the bad ones, so to speak. Many of them are now discontinued, but fortunately not all, so there are plenty of true gems to be discovered under all the fake rhinestones and glitter of the “Me Decade.” As it happens, two of my favorite fragrances from that time period are both currently available and by a perfumer who is perhaps better known now for more modern and minimalist compositions such as Calvin Klein’s CK One and the Bulgari Omnia series, the well regarded master perfumer Alberto Morillas. Yes, there was a time when he was responsible for far more opulent creations than his recent oeuvre would suggest. (It’s fascinating to me to see how a perfumer’s range develops over time; after all, the reigning king of minimalism, Jean-Claude Ellena, made First for Van Cleef & Arpels back in 1976, and it’s not exactly the perfume equivalent of a haiku.) I was delighted to acquire the original Salvador Dali women’s perfume from 1983 recently; it was last seen here adding interest to DSH Perfumes’ magical mushroom scent. I had smelled it when it was first released but I never wore it then, since I did not consider it to be my style. Little did I know that I would soon branch out from my signature romantic florals and learn to appreciate a wide range of fragrance styles when the “perfumista” bug bit me very hard. This is a big, roomy floral-oriental perfume with a sense of humor; the fizzy, fruity, mandarin-rich opening has a syrupy quality not unlike pineapple, though that is not a listed note. Basil and other greens add a unique signature. The rich floral heart briefly threatens to turn into an Amarige-like foghorn, but this one is far more good-natured and it mellows into something very wearable. All my favorites are in there: tuberose, jasmine, narcissus, lily-of- the-valley, and lily. This is a very warm fragrance, and the delicious base of musk, cedar, vanilla, sandalwood and benzoin is a pure pleasure. My vintage version seems to have an exceptionally nice grade of sandalwood in it, the kind that’s hard to find today. It is bit loud, but not the sloppy drunk kind of obvious that ruined so many other eighties scents for me. It’s user-friendly and just plain fun, suitable for either a night on the town or just kicking back at home when you want to be enveloped in something delicious. This was the first of many Dali fragrances and I can’t keep up with them all anymore, but it’s certainly one of the best from this house. It’s fairly easy to find online; just be sure you are getting the right one, since several later Dali releases also came in a similar “Lips and Nose” bottle. In 1986, Cartier released the wonderful Panthère, a fragrance that seems to be aimed squarely at the kind of woman who likes big, luxurious special occasion perfumes, and it definitely hit the target. Panthère has a similarity to the Salvador Dali scent, sort of the sober sister to the Dali’s Froot-Loopy optimism. It is equally rich but the sillage lies much closer to the skin. Mine is the vintage Parfum and it has aged very well, with a distinctively dry, spicy-herbal aspect of pepper and ginger setting off the deep sweetness of the other notes to perfection. The generous florals are rather similar to those in the Dali perfume and so are some of the base notes, but oakmoss, patchouli and civet are included to make a seriously sexy impression. The first thing I think of when I smell this one is “evening” and I picture an elegant little black dress accented with a few nice jewels, smoky eyes and a chic French twist. I am not that kind of woman, but I still appreciate this perfume. It is perhaps more restrained and civilized than the Dali, despite the name; this cat purrs but she does not snarl or bite. The really good news is that Cartier still makes it. I have been very disappointed in their recent mass-market releases such as the dreadful (in my opinion) Roadster and its equally unfortunate flankers, but at least you can still get Panthère. Image credits: Salvador Dali bottle from online discounter perfume.com. Panthère de Cartier bottle from collector site passionforperfume.com. Disclosure: The perfumes in this review are from my own personal collection of vintage fragrances.

Eau Dear, it gets worse: Cartier de Lune

By Tom I don't quite know what to do with this one. It's supposed to be picking white blooms under the full moon, etc. It's a rosy something-or-other that I might find forgivable if it were coming from a drugstore and cost $20. But really, Cartier? I've had richer, more satisfying, more successful rose scents from Dow. $75.00 for 1.5 oz at Sephora. My sample was a gift with purchase.

So Pretty by Cartier

The tagline for So Pretty by Cartier goes, "Que serait l'audace sans la grace?" "What is audacity without grace?" Indeed, nothing is much good if it is lacking grace. On the other hand, grace without a certain boldness is rather boring. So Pretty has the balance of the two down pat. The powerful rose note, enhanced by the creaminess of orchid and sweetness of the fruity accord is softened and made somehow very recherche by a generous dose of orris. To me, that delicate, velvety powderiness always speaks of a lady-like, graceful quality in a perfume. And how perfectly named is this scent? Whenever I spray it, I want to exclame, Aah! Created not that along ago, in 1995, by the master of beautiful, infinitely feminine audacity (Cacharel LouLou, Paco Rabanne La Nuit, Fifi Chachnil, Nina Ricci Deci-Dela, Fendi Asja...), Jean Guichard, the fragrance seems to have been forgotten. Yet, there nothing dated about this classical beauty, it is no less interesting then the much-hyped Les Heures. Give it a try if you haven't already. It really is So Pretty. Available widely, for about $40.00-$50.00 for 1.7oz. Image source, natperfume.com

3 Orrises

If the Magi's gifts were strictly fragrance ingredients, and the event of gift-bearing was taking place today, there would have to be some additions, reformulations and re-interpretations. It would go something like this: amber standing in for gold as a symbol of friendship (replacing kingship as not sufficiently egalitarian) frankincense as a symbol of non-denominational spirituality (in the name of political correctness), myrrh as a symbol of eternity (can't have death, too morbid), orris as a symbol of understated luxury and oud as a symbol of jumping on the bandwagon. I will go all numerological on you, and "analyze" 3 recent orris scents on the basis of 5 super-objective and scientific criteria (in all seriousness, these are the questions which I am asking myself, when I am smelling an orris-themed perfume): 1. How strongly/recognizably orrisy does it smell? 2. Is it more iris-orrisy or violet-orrisy? 3. Is it woody or floral? 4. Is it powdery? 5. How expensive does it smell? Cartier L'Heure Promise, from the brand's exclusive collection, Les Heures du Parfum. 1. How strongly/recognizably orrisy does it smell? - At first- fairly recognizably; the orris-ness dissipates in a couple of seconds to give way to the pastel-green, powdery-translucent floralcy in feeling not unlike that of Apres L'Ondee or L'Eau d'Hiver 2. Is it more iris-orrisy or violet-orrisy? - To me, it smells more like first violets might, probably before they even unfolded their petals. 3. Is it woody or floral? - Floral more than woody, but with distinct woodiness. 4. Is it powdery? - Somewhat, in a gauzy, delicate way. 5. How expensive does it smell? - Not particularly. It has the kind of simplicity about it, which, even though it, objectively speaking, might be complex and expensive to produce, does not make one (me) feel justified to spend a lot to buy it. Conclusion: L'Heure Promise was to me the best of the Les Heures. Which is not saying that much, because, although all the scents have an elegant, quality feel, they fall rather flat for me and seem somehow like renditions of themes I've smelled many times before. Van Cleef & Arpels Bois d'Iris, from yet another exclusive series, Collection Extraordinaire. 1. How strongly/recognizably orrisy does it smell? - Not very, in a sense that, for the sake of the concept, it chooses to focus on the woody aspect of the multi-faceted orris note, thus sacrificing other qualities. 2. Is it more iris-orrisy or violet-orrisy? - Neither. It is woody. 3. Is it woody or floral? -There are no flowers. The composition is all about wood, wood, labdanum, a touch of peppery incense and more wood. 4. Is it powdery? - It has a touch of powder, made of very, very finely grated wood. 5. How expensive does it smell? - Fairly. Because it appears to be choke-full of precious wood. Have I used the word "wood" enough times? Because this thing is woody! Conclusion: I was not in any way excited by the fragrances in Collection Extraordinaire, and Bois d'Iris was no exception. Like its siblings, it is well done, but it is...boring, to me. As for the orris... if you are looking for a velvety yet dry, high quality woody perfume, go no further. If you are looking for orris, you might consider... Irisss by Xerjoff, a new to me and molto lussuoso Italian line. 1. How strongly/recognizably orrisy does it smell? - Very. It is orris from start to, eventually, couple days later, because this thing lasts... finish 2. Is it more iris-orrisy or violet-orrisy? - Definitely iris-orrisy. Not in an earthy-natural, dry-silky way, in which Iris Pallida or Hiris are irisy. This perfume is creamy, velvety, substantial, perfumey, although not as perfumey as the aldehydic Iris Poudre. 3. Is it woody or floral? - It's both. It showcases well these two sides of orris/iris, choosing not to focus on the non-refined earthy side of it. 4. Is it powdery? - Yes. But not overwhelmingly so. The creaminess of ylang (I assume) and woods balances the powderiness. 5. How expensive does it smell? - Molto! The question to ask here, quoting Pretty Woman, would be, exactly how obscene an amount of money are we talking about? Just profane, or really offensive? And the answer would be, really offensive. Borderline New Russian and/or Real Housewife of Whatever offensive. There is a certain chic about this decadently luxurious composition, something in the refined floral note, perhaps, which does not let the scent overstep the border between Elegantly Expensive and Nouveau Riche, but only just about. Irisss is hanging by a well-groomed, glossy hair over the abyss of furs, 10-carat pink diamonds, Maybachs and Louis Vuitton logos. Conclusion: Beautiful. Sumptuous. Long-lasting. Screams luxury. Costs €590.00 for 15ml or €1.625,00 in a fancy Murano flacon!.. Ouch. The price aside, however, this is the orris scent that I liked the most in the sea of orris scents from the last couple of years. Image source, Xerjoff.

Perfume Review: Cartier Roadster

This September, Cartier is launching a new men's fragrance, Roadster, inspired by one of the brand's iconic watches. Created by Mathilde Laurent (also the nose behind Guerlain's sublime Guet-Apens), the scent is meant for "a hedonist caught up in the challenges of style with a refined and deliberate appreciation of the unexpected", for "an impeccable aristocrat that stakes his all on a throw of the dice for the mere thrill of it, intoxicated with the exhilaration of the play yet firmly under control." In other words, for exactly my type of a guy. Hedonists are hard if not impossible to please, so would Roadster live up to their high standards of quality and originality? I think it would. The perfume is elegant without trying too hard, understated but full of character. I have never expected to like a masculine composition built on an "icy mint" accord, but as you can see, I am smitten. There seems to be a trend right now, for fragrances that I will call watery-woody or watery-woody-floral. Un Jardin Apres La Mousson, Magnolia Romana and Fleur de Liane are representative of that trend, and now Roadster joins them, featuring more of woods and none of flowers (unless we count lavender) and including that "watery" accord, which I can't describe other than by saying obscurely that it is "wet" but not "aquatic". And I love that accord. Cartier categorizes Roadster as "a mineral fougère", and I suppose "mineral" is a good adjective to use for this or the three fragrances that I mentioned. There is something at once urbane and natural about it. The mint note, kept from being too fresh by vanilla, labdanum and patchouli, is delectable in a very abstract manner. The duo of bergamot and lavender, the bane of masculine scents, is subdued. Together with pepper, the two notes contribute to the cool feel of the scent but do not overtake the blend. The woody base has that indescribably, subtly salty powderiness which I also encounter in Eau des Merveilles and Navegar and a bit of earthy smokiness from patchouli. Roadster is, overall, as classic as it is über contemporary, and I think that it is superb. When I wear it, it makes me feel aloof and tranquil. On male skin it smells smokier, woodier and more arrogant...just the way I like 'em. The fragrance will debut in Cartier boutiques and Bloomingdale's on September 1st, and will retail for $105.00(3.3 fl oz). Image source, Cartier.