A Bevy of Rosy Beauties: Les Parfums de Rosine (Part One)

By Donna Some years ago I received a sample of Une Folie de Rose by Les Parfums de Rosine when I purchased another fragrance. I fell under its spell immediately but it was not sold at my local shop, and at the time I had no idea that it was part of an entire line of fragrances devoted to the Queen of Flowers. I used up my sample and hoped that I would find it again someday. I did, and now I also have the amazing body cream, which is so rich and redolent that its scent lasts all day and is a great substitute for wearing the perfume. Une Folie de Rose is a rose chypre, and its longevity on the skin is practically legendary. You have to really love chypres, not just roses, to appreciate it; the patchouli is pronounced, the resinous aspect of the fragrance is intense, and the rose is thick and jammy. It has become one of my favorite rose fragrances of all time and I feel elegant and just putting it on. The next Rosine I tried was Rose Kashmirie, which is very nearly the polar opposite of Une Folie de Rose, a sweet Oriental rose and peony scent made interesting with saffron and other warm notes including myrrh, vanilla and benzoin. I like to wear it on the coldest of days when it is truly like being wrapped a cashmere garment, and it easily made my winter favorites list. It has a whisper of powderiness but not too much, and it’s about as cuddy as perfume gets, and very feminine; if it were a person it would be a teenage girl with a pink satin ruffled coverlet and lots of cute, fuzzy stuffed animals in her bedroom, where she would spend hours writing in her diary using hearts as punctuation. I am just crazy about it. Next up, the wonderful Secrets de Rose, an almost “boozy” type of rose fragrance, not as spicy or warm as Rose Kashmirie but just as delicious, a dark plum-tinged velvety seductress with a resinous sandalwood and moss base and a heart that contains jasmine and ylang ylang along with the deeply jammy rose note. Even with all the Oriental notes it comes across as more of what I think of as a baseline rose soliflore in the rich style that I love, a classic composition that never goes out of style. To my nose it is serious competition for Serge Lutens’ Sa Majeste de la Rose, and coming from me that’s saying a lot. I want a full bottle of this for those occasions (and they are frequent) when I just crave deep red roses and nothing else will do. On the lighter side is Rose d’Ete, a delightfully fresh rose composition with galbanum, green apple, lime tree flower, mimosa, and other spring-like notes. The rose note is characterized as yellow rose, a color that carries a distinctly different kind of fragrance in the living rose flower because of the genetic heritage of yellow roses; it is rather tea-like and mild. It works perfectly with the other components to make for a breezy and easygoing rose that would be better suited to warm weather. It got a little bit lost when I tested it over winter, so I am saving what’s left of it for summer, when it will really have a chance to bloom. My continuing love affair with the Rosine scents came to screeching halt with Roseberry, which I was sure I would love it from the list of notes; its downfall is far too much blackcurrant bud, which imparts a metallic edge that overwhelms the rest of the notes; a hefty does of aldehydes only amps it up even more. Ordinarily I enjoy blackcurrant bud in fragrances, but I was hoping for more fruitiness here from the blackberry and chamomile and more expression of the Turkish rose character. It also has a “lees of wine” note which I expected to be rich and complex, but it’s sharp and thin to my nose instead, like a bottle of cheap red. For people who can wear this style, Roseberry is probably very elegant and sophisticated, as it has very little sweetness and a lot of green notes, but it simply does not work for me. More to come soon as I explore more of this fascinating line of fragrances! Les Parfums de Rosine has a very pretty and informative Web site and the product line includes scented soaps and candles as well as the liquid Eau de Parfum and perfumed body cream. The body creams from this line are outstanding and a great value for the money. It might take some searching to find a retail store that carries the line, but sample sets are available from the company, so you can try before you buy and have to pay the hefty overseas shipping charges from Paris. Image credit: Pink roses from sky-wallpaper.com. Disclosure: All the perfumes tested were from my own collection, either purchased by me or from trades with fellow perfume lovers.

Snow Rose by Floris

By Marina In creating Snow Rose, Floris took inspiration "from a sunlit unfolding of warmly scented rose petals crystallised within a winter wonderland." This describes quite perfectly Will Ryman's Roses installation on Park Ave. in Manhattan, which, thanks to the non-stop snowpocalypse we've been having, has been covered in snow all winter, and thus, by default, became Snow Roses for the season. They are not scented, but if they were, this is how they could smell. With it's powdery feel and soft vanillic base, Snow Rose is a comfort scent, and goodness knows, one needs comfort during blizzards. There is a subtle burst of green in the top notes, but I wouldn't call this verdancy cold. It is a winter rose for me exactly because it is warm, not icy. Nor would I like a cold rose anyway. I appreciate how delicately the powdery quality is done in the composition. On a powderiness scale from 1 to 10, where Talco Delicato is 9 and Teint de Neige 13, Snow Rose is about 6. Which is just right. I am surprised not to see orris among the listed ingredients; to me, the powdery feel of Snow Rose has a certain raw, vaguely earthy characteristic that I usually associate with the note. Sandalwood and vanilla in the drydown are a simple delight. Everything about this perfume is uncomplicatedly lovely and comfy. A comfort scent done with so much understated grace perhaps could only have come from an English brand. My sample of it arrived, fittingly, from England too, kindly sent by Vanessa, who writes one of my favorite blogs, Bonkers About Perfume. In her review of Snow Rose, Vanessa called the scent, "fluffy", which to me is a quality of a comfort scent and thus solidifies the status of Snow Rose as such. Snow Rose is a limited edition scent, but I do seem to see it on Floris website, £38.00 for 50ml. In the States, it is available at shoplondons.com, $70.00. Image sources, 1, 3- Huffington Post, 2 -artfeedonline.com, 3- agent j loves agent a on flickr.

On The Oudification of Perfumanity: Czech & Speake Dark Rose

By Marina I believe it would be fair to call Dark Rose (2003) a cult favorite. At least I remember it being very much loved around 2004-2005-ish, when I first discovered Makeupalley. And at the danger of making swiping generalizations, I am also going to call it, along with Donna Karan Chaos (1996) and YSL M7 (2002), one of the first "oud" scents we wore, before we really knew about ouds. The exact date is hard to pinpoint, but just a little later, Montale suddenly appeared on the scene, and then seemingly all we wore and talked about and lemmed were ouds. Then every brand jumped on the oudwagon. And then we also got to try Real Stuff, non-adapted for "western" liking, and then Montales etc. weren't good enough (oudy enough) anymore...So, anyway, this is my version of how the oudification of perfumanity went down. Dark Rose and its comrades* made us receptive to ouds, prepared the soil of our collective taste, so to say, like, um, Decabrists prepared the soil for Lenin. ...Coming back to Dark Rose... The fragrance has not lost its appeal for me, possibly because it's not really about oud. It is a rose blend in which oud (as well as patchouli, sandalwood and amber) was used to achieve a dry-smoky effect...to paint an image of smoldering and scorched petals...When I first apply the perfume, the rose is fresh, ripe, nectarous...but almost right away it catches on fire lit by saffron and agarwood and starts burning on my skin...the aroma that is released by that flame is incomparable to any other rose perfume I know...it is as if the petals were first caramelized and then torched. That vaguely gourmand quality of the rose is unexpected and appealing in such a dry, nocturnal, brooding composition. Never has a scent been so rightly named; Czech & Speake's creation rules the pantheon of Dark Roses. As an aside, since I am already on the subject of Cz&S and roses, the brand's other rendition of the flower, called simply, Rose (1988), while perhaps not as striking, is also a very elegant blend, which might delight those who don't like their roses sweet. Spiked by the verdant spiciness of geranium in the top notes, Rose softens in the heart, where its angles are smoothed by creamy ylang ylang. The dry, green leitmotif is, however, present throughout the development and even the rich, slightly earthy base retains a hint of geranium. *Some other fragrances that have been sneaking oud in our olfactory wardrobes long before it was all ouds, all the time are: Balenciaga Pour Homme (1990!), Nina Ricci (!) Deci-Dela (1994), Gap Om (1996), Yves Rocher Nature Millenaire (2000) and Rykiel Woman (2003). Have you worn an oud way back then and haven't realised it? Do tell! Dark Rose and Rose can be found at shoplondons.com, $130.00 and $125.00 for 100ml respectively.

Winter Roses. Fatale West: Xerjoff Damarose, DSH dirty ROSE

By Marina "O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm. That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy." The Sick Rose by William Blake Sometimes one wants to be comforted, sometimes one wants to feel danger(ous). For such a mood, nothing is more suitable than Dark Roses. Xerjoff's new rose chypre, Damarose, is one of them. The composition lures you in with the playful flirtatiousness of a fruity accord, a tangy, non-sweet blend than made me think of red currants and cranberries...don't let it fool you with its coy smiles though...the innocent flirt of fruits, pink roses and freesia will turn into heavy-lidded seduction, and smiles will become come hither pouts as soon as patchouli enters the scene. Damarose is très recherché and even patchouli, ever the wild child, is elegant here, its earthiness stylized, shown just a little, better to intrigue you...its slight chocolate-like undertone ever so discreet, just noticeable enough to tempt. The ambery, musky base is the texture of silk...dark, dark maroon silk. By the time the drydown comes, you realize that roses, which in the beginning seemed to be pink, fresh, innocent and always in a good mood, are in fact anything but. However, at that point it's too late, you have fallen hard for the fatal charms of this chic creation. While Damarose is a vamp in a figurative sense, dirty ROSE might possibly be the actual creature of the night. In contrast to the dressed-up, Parisian elegance of Xerjoff's offering, DSH's has something wild about it. Damarose's earthy feel was something of an affectation, here the rose is truly dirty. I'd switch the capitalization, and call it DIRTY rose. "The rose is blasted, withered, blighted, its root has felt a worm..." It won't bother luring you with faux sweetness, it will bite you right away with spices. Geranium and pimento give the blend a wonderfully sharp feel in the top notes; the heart is a sacrilegious mix of sacred and base, incense and patchouli; the drydown is the wicked woods from which you'll never want to find a way back home. Dawn Spencer Hurwitz recommends this rose for men, and I can see how it can easily be worn by them, with rose hiding all the while behind spices, resins, vetiver and tobacco...now you see it and now you don't...a hint of something red, moving behind the trees...Where was I?...Oh, right, it can easily be worn by men. Having said that, like any dry, leathery, "goth" fragrance of this kind, dirty ROSE is obviously unisex and dare I say would smell even deadlier on a woman. Damarose is available at Xerjoff's e-boutique, € 500.00 for 100ml, and I assume will be sold soon at Luckyscent...dirty ROSE can be found at dshperfumes.com, $40.00-$100.00. PS. I recently revisited Black Rosette by Strange Invisible Perfumes, in its new Eau de Parfum concentration, and fell hard for it all over again. This is a Dark Rose extraordinaire, the very epitome of Dark Rose-iness. If my memory serves me well, the new blend has less of a "leathery like lapsang-souchoung" and more of an "actually leathery" quality. I don't know if I particularly care for the loss of the tea note. But I am thrilled that I can now finally spray this nocturnal masterpiece. (Available at siperfumes.com and Barneys, $220.00 for 50ml.)

Winter Roses. Comforting East: By Kilian Rose Oud, Keiko Mecheri Attar des Roses

By Marina "You love the roses - so do I. I wish The sky would rain down roses, as they rain From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valley would be pink and white And soft to tread on. They would fall as light As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!" Roses by George Eliot I woke up on January 1, 2011 with a craving for rose perfumes. I don't know where it came from, when for a couple of years I have been suffering from an affliction similar to that of Bulgakov's Pilate ("More than anything in the world the procurator loathed the smell of rose oil, and everything now pointed to a bad day, since that smell had been pursuing him since dawn.") and shied away not only from rose "soliflores" but from blends as well. Wherever the cure of my anti-rose "disease" came from, it clearly was a part of some kind of larger phenomenon, since other incidents of rose-perfume-cravings were reported simultaneously in the beginning of this month, for example, by our own Donna and by Victoria of Bois de Jasmin. Also, birds were falling from the sky and fish were washed ashore... In any case...Victoria is also to thank for my discovery of Rose Oud. My reluctance to try the new By Kilian was threefold: a) it had a prominent rose note (see above), b) ouds have become trite c) rose ouds have become even more trite. What new can something unimaginatively called Rose Oud add to the genre, I wondered. As it turns out, not much, really, in terms of breaking any kind of new ground in the oud land. But what it does add is delight to the life of its wearer. It is just so...pretty and wearable and delicious, it's impossible not to like it. Nothing complex here: roses + oud + a gourmand undertone, but each of the three components is impeccable, done just right. The roses are dark-pink and oozing nectar. The oud is not going to knock you over with the sharp animalic feel I usually look for in ouds, but it does possess just enough of the beast to serve as a perfect contrast to the beauty of the rose. And then there is this soft, fluffy-creamy...something, a certain edible characteristic not unlike that of White Aoud, perhaps in the mix of cardamom and vanilla...something that makes you unsure whether you want to sniff the spot on your wrist where you sprayed Rose Oud or gnaw on it just a little bit. Like White Aoud, it is a comfort scent to me. Keiko Mecheri's Attar des Roses is also comforting. Less creamy/vanillic, it still has a fairly edible feel about it, due to the wonderfully "candied" quality of the rose accord. It is as if the petals received the same delicious treatment, which slices of citrus fruits often do, by being generously coated with little crystals of sugar. The accord is set against a drier, leathery one, and that prevents the blend from becoming too sweet. The ambery drydown retains some of the leather and a lot of the rose, giving the composition a nicely rounded effect, both in conceptual and olfactory terms. It is more floral, compared to Rose Oud, and might be a great option for someone not comfortable with ouds (or the price), but seeking the same mood and feel. Rose Oud is available at Luckyscent, $395.00 for 50ml, Attar des Roses at keikomecheri.com, $115.00 for 75ml.

Moss Roses in a Bottle: Une Folie de Rose by Les Parfums de Rosine

By Donna Several years ago I received a sample vial of a perfume with a bottle purchase, and I flipped over the sample; it was instant love. I don't even remember now what the bottle was, but I wore the sample until it was gone and I even kept the empty vial so that I could sniff it once in a while; it was Une Folie de Rose (2004) by Les Parfums de Rosine. It was unusual for a rose fragrance, because not only it was a true chypre style scent with a rose heart, it was also quite green, thus combining several of my favorite perfume elements in one distinctive composition. I recently got a decant of this in a swap, and I love it more than ever. If any rose perfume is going to tempt me to buy a full bottle, this is the one. Now, some people may hear “green rose” and back away quickly, thinking it must something thin, sharp and acidic like too many inferior rose scents. Not so in this case; the rose (Bulgarian and Turkish) is rich, the green resinous and the chypre base with sandalwood, real oakmoss and benzoin keeps it warm and grounded. It opens with bergamot and a dry twist of coriander before the heart of roses and other florals (jasmine, ylang ylang and iris) expands. The unique mark of this perfume is the mossiness; in fact, what it smells like to me is the unusual buds of the old-fashioned Moss roses. These fragrant blossoms were so named because of the soft “mossy” coat on the outside (sepals) of their buds that secretes a highly resinous essence that is a cross between the classic rose aroma and something like an aromatic balsam fir, the result of a genetic mutation in this group of old garden roses. Rubbing the buds just as they are about to open releases this delicious fragrance. I have one of these wonderful plants in my own garden, and like most of the antique roses it blooms profusely, but only for a few weeks in early summer. With Une Folie de Rose I can enjoy this sensation anytime. I find it to be more interesting than most fragrances of the style that would usually be considered a rose soliflore, and it gets more so the longer I wear it. As it deepens into its chypre base, it gets darker and a little mysterious, and the longevity is excellent. The vivid feel of real, leafy green living roses remains throughout. Traditional rose perfumes generally seem to fall into one of two broad categories – the simple, romantic and even girlish soliflores, which can be soapy and fresh, and the “sexy” rose scents which are often decorated with Oriental flourishes, such as the Montale rose and oud scents or Caron's Parfum Sacré and Amouage Lyric Woman, which wrap the rose in incense, spices, musk and vanilla. Une Folie de Rose finds its own path, standing out from the crowd with its air of chypre sophistication; yes, it's sexy all right, but it's not just a boudoir perfume, it's a fashion statement with an elegance that makes it suitable for wearing in just about any environment, and yes, men can wear it too. It's not cheap - starting at about $110 USD for 50 ml of Eau de Parfum - but it's far more reasonable than one would expect after smelling it; this is a top quality house that does not rely on celebrities or big advertising budgets to sell perfume and the materials are first class. (I also got a decant of the luscious saffron-infused Rose Kashmirie and it’s just as good, though entirely opposite in style.) The Rosine line can be purchased from their web site (have a Euro converter handy) or from better online boutiques such as Beautyhabit. My mission for the near future is to try all the Rosines but I am not sure if I dare; if the rest of them measure up to Une Folie de Rose and Rose Kashmirie, my pocketbook will be in serious jeopardy. Image credit: Bud of an antique Moss rose from oldheirloomroses.com

Parfum de Maroc by Aftelier

By Marina To me, Parfum de Maroc showcases the characteristic that I came to love in Aftelier Perfumes and to recognize as a specifically Afterlier quality. I call it spicy booziness...There is something in each of my favorite Mandy Aftel's scents that has a mouthwatering, nose-tingling quality of a very piquant hard liquor...something dangerously drinkable... Maroc has that intoxicating something in abundance. Its ripe rose is drunk on spices, fermented in cardamom, saffron and nutmeg...There is also galangal, which, Wikipedia informs me, has a "citrusy, piney, earthy aroma (...) its flavor is a complement to its relative ginger." It is supposed to be an aphrodisiac and, smelling Maroc, I believe it. The mix of roses, earth and spices has an aloof, dark sensuality that is irresistible. I love when a perfume allows me to see itself in color. Parfum de Maroc does and it is flame-red. It has the texture of heavy raw silk, smooth and scratchy to the touch at the same time. Parfum de Maroc makes me restless, like beautiful things are often prone to do. I want to imprint it on my senses forever, to make my own, to drown in it...and it makes me anxious that this gorgeous orange-red silk will slip though my fingers....As Camus said (yes, it is a quote-Camus week on PST), "beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time." Available at aftelier.com, $45.00-$300.00.

Caron Parfum Sacré and Amouage Lyric Woman: Battle of the Diva Roses

By Donna I have been doing a lot of testing recently, with so many sample vials in the pipeline that I am wearing something different almost every day, and sometimes it's several samples at a time. This is good in one way, since my curiosity about perfume is virtually insatiable; on the other hand, sometimes I get so caught up in trying new scents that my old favorites don't get the attention they deserve. Naturally I am constantly adding new favorites to the list all the time, even though most of these never get to the stage of a full bottle purchase. I just don't have that kind of budget, or the space in which to store them. A fragrance that is new to me, whether it's vintage, something that has been on the market for awhile or a brand new introduction, has to be a real knockout to get on my short list of things I would actually consider buying, especially when it's a newer one that cannot be had for a discounted price. When I make one of my rare full price bottle purchases, it's because the perfume is truly outstanding and something I have fallen seriously in love with. One perfume I never want to be without has been in my collection for twenty years now, the 1990 masterpiece by the house of Caron, Parfum Sacré. For me it is ageless, timeless, unique, sensuous and majestic. Even though it is finally warming up to real spring weather where I live, I have had an urge to wear it a lot as an antidote to random sampling, to remind me of what a truly great perfume can be; it's one of those perfumes that I get a true craving for and when that feeling hits, nothing else will do. It is also very powerful, and must be applied with restraint if I am planning to go out in public, but if I have a day (or night) at home, I spray it on liberally. For me it is one of those mind-altering, transporting scents that are rarely encountered, and yet the quest to find such a one is what drives me, and other fragrance lovers, to seek out yet more new things to try in search of that elusive experience. Parfum Sacré's rosy beauty is wrapped in a Byzantine cloak of classic Oriental elements such as vanilla, musk, civet, myrrh and frankincense, embellished with a generous twist of black pepper. I think of it as being primarily a rose perfume, although it's not really a rose soliflore at all but an Oriental rose blend in which the rose takes center stage instead of being a seamless part of the whole. Yet its composition is seamless indeed, and it's not a realistic rose by any means. In spirit and somewhat in character it resembles the original version of Lancôme's Magie Noire, Paloma Picasso's Mon Parfum or Guerlain's peerless holographic rose Nahema, rich and opulent fragrances that are anything but dewy floral re-creations of rose blossoms. They are more like rose Rembrandts; chiaroscuro works of art whose dark complexity makes them objects of desire. I have been wearing my Parfum Sacré with more than my usual frequency since I just acquired another bottle of the original formula; yes, sadly it has been redone, and not in a good way. (If you want to buy this, look for the EDT in the solid gold box or the EDP in the gold-spangled black box, and the old broad-based bottle style with the large ivory-toned cap. You will probably have to go online and search these out.) Now another contender in this exclusive “diva rose” category (I also call them “bombshell rose” perfumes) has caught my attention. I opened my sample of Amouage Lyric Woman (2008) that I received in a swap and it took my breath away. For some reason I had the idea in my head that Lyric was one of the “lesser” Amouage feminine scents (although they are all good, some are great) and not up to the standard of Gold, Ubar or Epic. I had no idea it was this good! Its basic structure is much like that of the Caron, but its spicy side is comprised of saffron, ginger and cardamom instead of black pepper, and the signature Amouage frankincense note is somewhat softer and less obvious. The rose is truly exquisite and it is that same type of lustrous Oriental rose essence that lies at the heart of Parfum Sacré. Its character is that of a red Damask rose, almost smoky in its intensity, as dense as though it were made of rose petal preserves meant to be consumed. Joining it are luscious jasmine and ylang-ylang, along with iris root and fresh, sweet angelica, a note that I really love and which gives real distinction to this perfume. Among the many base notes in this composition are sandalwood, Tonka bean, musk, vetiver and yes, real oakmoss! (The house of Amouage does not bow to IFRA pressure, which another reason to admire and support this house.) The longer I wear Lyric Woman the better it gets, and the more the incense note wraps itself around my nose, captivating me utterly. The rose keeps weaving in and out, never really going away but retreating behind the incense and woody notes only to come dancing out again in a swirl of pillowy sweetness. Every time I put my nose to my wrist I get something different; I know that the listed notes are only a few of the many high quality ingredients that must be in it to create this effect. It is fascinating, captivating, sexy as hell and definitely in the same class as Gold or my favorite Amouage, Ubar, of which I prefer the original to the reintroduction but both are fabulous. The second time I tested Lyric Woman, I left it on overnight, and in the morning I was greeted by a truly delightful sensation. The rose was still there, not just the base notes, and it had turned into a sheer, misty abstract rose reminiscent of Rochas Tocade, but it was floating on a puffy cloud of incense instead of vanilla, perfectly combined with the rose. This “second perfume” was just as wonderful as it was on the first day. Lyric Woman has impressive sillage and excellent longevity on me, which is to be expected of this Oriental floral style, and a little goes a long way. That's good, because this is expensive perfume, and the 50 ml size sells for over $200 USD; it can be found for a little bit less if you do some comparison shopping, but you will not find a real bargain, and understandably, since it is relatively new and composed of the finest materials available. For those who can afford it, it's really worth the money, more so than many other perfumes that cost as much or more. You could think of it as a bargain of sorts, because you will definitely wear it. It will not sit on the shelf and gather dust after a few wearings because it was disappointing. If I had a bottle of this I would do exactly the same thing with it as I do with Parfum Sacré. I would behave myself in public, wearing only a discreet dab, but in private I would use it lavishly, even excessively. After all, that's what real divas do. Full disclosure: Parfum Sacré is from my personal collection. Lyric Woman was a private sample received as a gift. Amouage perfumes can be purchased from the Amouage Web site or at finer perfume shops such as Luckyscent. Caron perfumes are sold at better perfume shops and department stores. Image credit: “Flamenco Dancer” by British artist Gerry Langton, via gerrylangton.co.uk

Killing me Softly: By Kilian Rose Oud

By Tom I've been resistant to By Kilian. It's really all my issue. I do admit that the scents are nice but the level of twee is cranked up to about 11 with the packaging with the little keys. That and Kilian Hennessy makes me feel fat. (I told you it was my issue) Then he started moving into Oud. Oud is I believe the new wood, or perhaps the new fruit. Previously having been the seeming provence of only the house of Montale, it seems like everyone and his brother have a new scent featuring the ingredient. Soon at a Sephora near you: Infectious by Sean John. By Killian Pure Oud is lovely, but forgive me if I write that there are a few others out there that are doing the same thing for a little less money? Rose Oud treads a different path. Roses are often grafted to sturdier root stock to get healthier flowers. The mix of Caron-like cabbage roses and Agarwood is so seamless as to be as if the roses grew directly from the wood, sucking up the oud and radiating it along with the delicious sweet rose, saffron and cardamom. It isn't something I would buy for myself if only because of the price point: a shade less than $400 for 50ML is a little more that I want to put out, and I have a feeling that there are a few other less pricey, less opulently packaged scents that have treaded this part of the garden. But if this is in your budget, go for it. Available at all places that sell By Killian. I got my sample by asking for it at ScentBar.

Yves Saint Laurent Parisienne: Perfume Review

I feel pretty, Oh, so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright! And I pity Any girl who isn't me tonight. I feel charming, Oh, so charming It's alarming how charming I feel! And so pretty That I hardly can believe I'm real. ... I feel stunning And entrancing, Feel like running and dancing for joy, For I'm loved By a pretty wonderful boy! Yves Saint Laurent's new Parisienne sings this songs, and it twirls, and it smiles, and it winks and it is so full of joy and so pleased with itself and the world that it might simply burst like a fantastic pink bubble and rain down in a myriad rose petals. Ah, so pretty!- I exclaimed the moment I smelled it. So romantic. So unashamedly feminine. So exactly like what I didn't know I really wanted. The ad... and I can't remember last time I liked an advertising this much... the concept of "the glamour and seductive allure of a Parisian woman" and the list of notes, "with a vinyl accord, said to add a modern twist to the fragrance and evoke the gloss, varnish or metal of a spike heel" (source) present the fragrance as a little more sensual, darker and edgier than it is on my skin. I repeat, I adore the advertising for Parisienne and I don't think that it clashes with the fragrance, but the smell, to me, would be represented even better by a lighter, brighter, girlier visuals like those for Miss Dior Cherie (another campaign that I love). The perfume had me at bonjour with its sweet-and-tangy accord of cranberry and rose. I have been looking for the mouthwatering sugary sourness in a perfume ever since I encountered it in Quel Amour. The Goutal's creation was a little too acidulated. I found some in Sophia Grojsman's earlier creation, 100% Love, but, although strikingly unique, it was ultimately too sweet. Parisienne strikes a perfect balance of sweetness and tartness. The airy tanginess of cranberry is enhanced by peony and vetiver, the sweetness of rose is underscored by blackberry, violet and sandalwood. The violet is another aspect of Parisienne that I enjoy; in fact, I think that it is the presence of the softly powdery note, vaguely evocative of lipsticks, powders and somehow, to me, of all things "French", that makes the perfume "Parisienne". And when violet is joined by a delicate hint of patchouli, the composition, although never, on me, achieving the vinyl edge, acquires that twilit, dusky, husky quality that is promised by the elegantly-suggestive commercial. In other words, girly as it is, Parisienne has depth. It is a proper perfume, with refined structure and the kind of harmonious complexity that is the testament to the talent of the creators. One always dreams of finding an unexpected gem among the multitude of new luxe releases, and once in a while the dream comes true. Fans of the aforementioned Quel Amour and 100% Love as well as of such Grojsman classics as- of course!- Paris and Beautiful, along with lovers of the retro-chic, flirty creations like Drole de Rose, Lipstick Rose and Le Pot Aux Roses, please, take note of Parisienne. I will leave you with the second commercial teaser for Parisienne, courtesy of YSL, click here for the first. The fragrance is expected to arrive in the US in September. Image source, models.com, YSL.

Amouage Epic Woman: Perfume Review

As Fred R. Barnard noted, “an epic is the easiest kind of picture to make badly.” Luckily, Amouage, with its grand mentality, is exactly the kind of line that does epics wonderfully well and short stories not so much. They should therefore completely disobey Hemingway's advice and not "eschew the monumental" or "shun the epic". The new member of Amouage dynasty continues the magnificent lineage with great flair. I am almost tempted to say that, with its unapologetic sumptuousness, it outdoes its great ancestors. And that's a feat of epic proportions in and of itself, as the ancestors include such larger than life creations as Gold, Jubilation 25, Ubar and Lyric. Speaking of Lyric, to me, Epic picks up its ripe, honeyed rose theme and carries it on, embellishing the star note further, and sort of giving the idea its logical closure by making the composition darker and even more extravagantly lush. No, the two are not the same fragrances, but of all Amouage siblings these are probably the closest in spirit. The embellishments in question are oud and frankincense. The funny thing is that, at the very first sniff from a vial or a on scent strip, the scent is undeniably an oud-rose blend. As soon as it is applied to the skin, however, incense takes center stage, and I like that. There are plenty rose-ouds and not that many rose-incenses. The nocturnal, resinous frankincense note delights me with its presence for a good long while, sort of covering the rose like a black curtain. Eventually the curtain is lifted and there is the flower, sweet, over-ripe, spicy with cinnamon and geranium, brewed with black tea and vanilla into a seductive potion. It is a delicious, edible, sensual and yet appropriately regal rose. If you are looking for more oud, you will find more in the base, along with some dirt from patchouli and some more nectareousness from amber and sandalwood. Those afraid of the sweetness, note that it is well balanced by the drier, stark notes of frankincense, gaiac and oud. Cuminophobiacs, to you I can only say that there was no cumin on my skin (not that I would have minded some). All fans of the Big Perfumes in general and Amouage's decadent oeuvre in particular, Epic is a must-sniff and, as far as I am concerned, a must-have. Available at amouage.com, €195-€230, and coming soon to Luckyscent. Image credits, Miles Aldridge, Amouage.

Strange Invisible Perfumes Aquarian Roses: Perfume Review

Like every great magic trick, every great perfume consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". But while during this stage a magician usually shows something ordinary and normal, a perfumer more often than not has to attract one's jaded attention with the striking and the unexpected. No one is more adept at that than Alexandra Balahoutis, whose perfumes are notorious for being "odd" in the beginning. I would not call the top notes of Aquarian Roses outright weird, but the piney, herbaceous aroma of marjoram opening a rose perfume is unexpected, and the realism of the rose accord is stunning. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary object and makes it do something extraordinary. The perfumer has to make sure that the middle notes live up to the nose-catchiness of the beginning of the composition. And thus the marjoram leaves suddently turn into...underwater plants?...the saline, seaweedy quality in a rose fragrance is unusual and exciting...but where are the roses? Cutter will tell you that making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. And that is the third act of a magic trick, the hardest part, the part that is called "The Prestige"...Will Balahoutis pull it off and make the very true-to-life roses from the first part come back...and most importantly of all- and this is what the trick was really all about- would, in the finished creation, those be the roses that I will love and be able to wear?...Are you watching closely? The aquatic plant transforms into a rose and the base accord takes the rose and leads into the familiar, time-honored union with sandalwood. Do I love it? I love it! Love the herbal start, the salty middle and the proper-perfumey, strangely old-fashioned end. Abracadabra! Available at Siperfumes.com and Barneys, $175.00-$210.00 The image, the quotes and the general inspiration for the review are courtesy of one of my favorite movies, The Prestige.

Andy Tauer Une Rose Chypre: Perfume Review and a Prize Draw

For the rose, for this rose, for the only one, for this graceful, open, adult rose, for her depths of velvet, for the cry of her red bosom. (Pablo Neruda, Ode to the Rose) Like Neruda, I used to believe that I renounced roses, that I "preferred the rough bouquets of the thicket, wild lilies"...Roses are too ubiquitous, too obviously feminine. I am jaded, I crave the exotic, the unusual, the innovative. But I also require classicism, elegance and grace. How do you create a perfume that is classically structured and chic but also a little strange, a little outlandish? And in particular, how do you create a perfume like that when it is centered on such a traditional, overused note? I don't know how, ask Daniel Maurel, the author of the spectacular Amouage Lyric and ask Andy Tauer. The secret of Une Rose Chyprée's attraction for me is three-fold: 1. It is a Dark Rose, not necessarily come-hither vampy, but certainly suggestively brooding, and Dark Roses are the only kind I can love at all; no easy, breathy, pastel tea-roses for me, please! 2. It is not overly true-to-life. I don't smell it and think, this is a rose. I smell it and think, this is a Perfume about a rose, a stylized, imaginative interpretation. 3. It is built on a contrast. The contrast is between the untamed wildness, greenness and woodiness of windswept roses from an untended garden, on the on hand, and, on the other hand, the exquisite, mannered, Ladurée-evoking gourmandness. The thorny verdancy of geranium, the rootiness of vetiver, the dirtiness of patchouli, the rich sharpness of oak moss are tamed and softened by the mouthwatering vanilla and citruses coated in cinnamon sugar...the rose is caught in-between the two streams, benefiting from both, wild and delicate, green and honeyed, spicy and silky-smooth all at once. A poet can't close his eyes to rose's "cup of fire", or seal off his heart from its fragrance, and neither can a perfume lover pass by the indolent, fiery elegance of Une Rose Chyprée, my new favorite rose and my new favorite Tauer scent. It is launching worldwide on July 1. Together with Luckyscent, we are holding today a prize draw for two bottles of Une Rose Chyprée. For a chance to win one, please leave us a comment. And while you are doing so, tell us what is YOUR favorite rose fragrance and your favorite Tauer perfume, and why. The two winners will be chosen randomly and announced early next week. The prize draw is now closed.

Seriously Sensual: Montale Aoud Queen Rose

By Donna Some time ago I received a much-coveted sample of Montale Aoud Queen Rose from a fellow perfumista and then promptly lost it. Recently I was doing some deep cleaning (by my definition anyway) and there it was. Between the time I had lost the sample and then found it again, I had tried it at my local perfume shop when they began to carry the Montale line. I discovered the addictive character of Aoud in a big way via the many Montales that have a hefty dose of this resinous wonder in them. In fact, there was not a single scent in their Aoud series that I did not find fascinating. There were standouts of course, and among them were the “sister scents” Aoud Roses Petals and Aoud Queen Rose. You might wonder why there even need to be more than one Aoud/Rose perfumes in the same line (and there are more of them, check out Aoud Damascus), and I had the same thought. Yet upon closer examination they are quite different, and even if they were not, can you ever have too much of what’s in these perfumes? I didn’t think so. Aoud Queen Rose belongs to a class of fragrance very dear to my heart: The “Bombshell Rose.” This elite club counts among its members such classics as Parfum Sacré, Magie Noire and Nahema, so the standard is high. Many bombshell scents are either white florals (Fracas, take a bow) or gigantic chypres (Paloma Picasso). The bombshell rose has to have some of the same elements, such as room-clearing sillage, a strong base of wood/leather/spices/vetiver etc. and a big wallop of sex appeal from animalic elements. Aoud Queen Rose has the whole package; Velvety Grasse and Arabian roses, Hibiscus, and a lot of Aoud. The roses are so heavy they are almost candied, like my beloved Nahema, but the overall effect is not nearly as sweet because of the musky, somewhat nutty hibiscus and pungent aoud. This is a dark perfume, smoldering with mystery, and once it’s on your skin it’s on for good – this stuff does not just have longevity, it has the half-life of a radioactive isotope. That’s good if you love aoud but exercise caution anyway. There are other Montales that have a bigger hit of aoud, but there is plenty of it in this. The effect of this perfume is almost narcotic as it wraps the wearer in a haze of sensuality like smoke from a magic lantern. Like Parfum Sacré, it seems to have an effect on other people too; doors are opened, chairs are pulled out, eyes lock and smiles are exchanged. Wear it when you feel daring and a bit wild - it’s a perfect match for any fantasy you might conjure up. Available at Luckyscent online and select retail stores such as The Perfume House - $150 for 50 ml of Eau de Parfum. Image credit: Photo of Hybrid Tea rose ‘Red Chateau’ from Wikimedia Commons.

Perfume Review: Amouage Lyric Man

"nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing" somewhere i have never travelled, ee cummings For women, wearing a rose scent is ordinary, a bit of a cliché even. For men, in the Western parts of the world, daring. Amouage d-double-dares its European and American masculine audience with Lyric Man, a perfume that differs from most men's rose fragrances in that the rose here is not hiding self-consciously behind the virile backs of woods, ouds, leathers and spices. It is boldly at the forefront, in the center, the most prominent note from start to finish. Lyric Man is not a rose soliflore by any stretch of imagination, it is a complex blend; however, the numerous players in the composition never over-crowd or over-power the rose. Citruses in the top notes lend the rose a certain breezy, almost sharp freshness. Ginger, nutmeg and saffron add spice. Angelica, galbanum and pine bring a green-aromatic, dry if not austere element to the composition, counter-balancing the indolent exoticism of spices and vanilla with sharply-tailored, rather urbane classicism. Sandalwood and frankincense in the base enhance both the fresh-green-dry and the creamy-ripe-languid sides of the rose, its fragile crystallinity and its heady intensity. Women who like their roses woody, dark and aromatic will find Lyric Man very easy to wear. As for men...according to Amouage, the scent was meant for a "confident gentleman who dares to desire". Let me add something to that profile: he is a Libra, 6'4" a dark-and-brooding type, appears self-assured and even arrogant, has quite a temper, is intense and complex and vulnerable but will rather die than show his vulnerability ...If it sounds like you, Lyric Man is available at Amouage.com, €165-€205.

Perfume Review: Amouage Lyric Woman

"The search for a perfection beyond reality; the rare and exquisite nature of the lyric-spinto voice that inspires both awe and envy; the sacrifice made in the quest for immortality..." No, you are not reading a synopsis of a Lloyd Webber musical. This is how Amouage introduce their new "deliciously dramatic" fragrance, Lyric Woman. To be fair, the perfume is in fact dramatic. And delicious, in that tantalizingly odd way in which roses can be delicious when they are blended with spices and vanilla. According to Amouage, "Lyric is a floral fragrance, but one that introduces dark intensity" to the genre. Simply put, it is a floral-oriental scent. Or rather oriental-floral, because the spices, the resins and the woods rule the composition. Do not expect a pure, naturalistic rose scent. When the (lyric-spinto?) voice of the rose IS heard in the passionate and perfectly harmonious chorus of other notes, it does sound wonderfully realistic. Those are the glimpses of roses in their natural habitat, in a luxurious garden, with dew glistening alluringly on their crimson petals (hey, I can do over-the-top marketing copy with the best of them!)...but most of the time, Lyric is a masterfully-woven tapestry, or perhaps more appropriately in this case - a carpet. At times you can recognize the flowers in the abstract ornaments but mostly they blend into the ornate, magnificently intricate design. It may or may not be apparent from this review, but I am in love with Lyric. I don't like naturalistic rose scents and, as those close to me would unhappily confirm, I love drama. I also appreciate complex compositions. Lyric has a multitude of facets: there is a fresh, slightly sharp floral part fronted by jasmine and geranium, the mouthwatering spicy side of cardamom, cinnamon and ginger, the sweet, edible fluffiness of vanilla, tonka bean and orris, the dark sensuality of wood and frankincense...And this host of voices is tied together with the velvety ribbon of rose, and what could have been cacophony becomes breathtaking harmony. Lyric Woman was created by Daniel Maurel. I would be curious to find out what other perfumes were done by Maurel and from now on will be eagerly awaiting his new scents. Lyric collection also includes a masculine scent, Lyric Man, by Daniel Visentin: a fresher, spicier and equally beautiful blend, which continues the Phantom of the Opera theme by recounting "the myth of a beautiful young woman and a powerful, mysterious man who seeks to immortalise the beauty of her voice." But more on that at a later date... Lyric Woman and Man are available at amouage.com, for €185-€220 and €165-€205 respectively.

Perfume Review: Lancome Magnifique

I am very fond of Lancôme. When I was little, my mom's Climat and Magie Noire seemed to me incredibly sophisticated, belonging to a different, almost fairy-tale-like world. Years later, jaded by this hobby and work of mine, whenever I see the stylized rose sign on a Lancôme bottle, my heart still skips a beat in anticipation of Magic. I would not call Magnifique, Lancôme's new release fronted by Anne Hathaway, magical, but much like the spokesperson, it is charming. And kudos to Lancôme for blending their beloved rose with spices and woods and not, say, fruits, and giving a West-meets-East feel to the composition. Saffron gives the roses in the top notes of Magnifique a piquantly candied quality...think spicy rose jam, Turkish Delight and all things sweet in an exotic sort of way. The scent becomes more intensely honeyed as it progresses. The woody accord, which includes the allegedly aphrodisiacal nagarmota, does not make the sugared roses to appear less sweet but counteracts their gourmand floralcy by infusing the scent with rich, velvety darkness. I can't help but wish for a generous dose of oud in Magnifique. Saffron and roses are begging for it. Oud would have made the exotic vision behind the composition more complete, but the note, with its medicinal undertone, might be just a little too daring for what is after all a mass release. If I encountered Magnifique twenty or so years ago, when all I knew of the perfume world was my mother's dresser with its small but elegant collection, when I haven't known about Arabian Oud or Montale, when rose notes seemed breathtakinng and not ubiquitous and when saffron would have smelled to my unsophisticated nose thrillingly odd...if I encountered Magnifique then, I would have been blown away. I still think that it is pretty, harmonious, grown up and elegant, and that is a no small achievement. Magnifique is available at Lancôme counters and at lancome-usa.com, $65.00-$85.00. Image source, Lancôme.

Roses in 3-D: Annick Goutal Ce Soir Ou Jamais

By Donna Roses have to be among the most beloved of all plants that are cultivated by humans, and hardly anyone does not like their scent. It is a rare person who is not affected in some way by the delicious aroma of a fresh, dewy rose blossom. But when it comes to rose perfumes, even those who love the flower itself are less than enamored of perfumes featuring the rose. Sometimes it is because they smell cheap, due to synthetic ingredients in the composition or because “rose geranium” leaves were used instead of real rose essence, a cost-cutting measure that can be easily detected by comparing it with a real rose fragrance. Memories of drugstore horrors linger long and make one wary of approaching anything calling itself a rose soliflore. I personally love a good rose perfume as much as anything, and I am always looking for the kind that makes me feel as I do when smelling a real one in my garden; I inhale slowly and deeply and if it’s really good, it has that same effect that a fresh rose does – the nose never tires of it and there is never any hidden unpleasantness in its depths like there can be with other flowers. Fragrant roses are sweet right down to the bottom, and a good rose perfume should be the same way, rich and deep and endlessly pleasing, with no “off” or strange notes to interfere with the experience. Those rose perfumes that do measure up to the real thing usually have to do it in one if two ways: by recreating the effect of the fresh living flower or by making it abstract, stylized, and part of a greater whole. The first way is probably the more difficult approach, as the standard for a rose scent is so high: the icon of the genre is Jean Patou Joy, a seamless and masterful fusion of Rose de Mai and Grasse jasmine that is the measure of greatness for all that have come after it. Then there is the modern Serge Lutens Sa Majeste de la Rose, a worthy heir to the classic tradition. On the abstract side we have such gems as Frederic Malle Editions de Parfum Lipstick Rose and Guerlain Nahema, both clearly rose-based but each with a unique twist, and the very rosy but somehow also stylized Paris de Yves St. Laurent that somehow does not seem like a rose soliflore to me but more of an atmosphere, a series of pink-tinged cloud pictures in my head like the kind we see as children when looking at the sky. Then there is Lancôme Magie Noire, whose rich and sophisticated rose essence is surrounded by a haze of other notes, a velvety penumbra moon that is best worn at night. Of course, these are only a few of the multitude of rose fragrances in the world, and everyone has their own idea of what their ideal rose perfume would smell like. So why do perfumers keep producing rose scents? I have to think that in the case of the best ones, it has to be for love – think of the high quality of the Parfums de Rosine line, the medley of rose themes encompassed by these wonderful perfumes. I have not tried most of them, but I love Un Folie de Rose very much; its slightly sharp greenness coupled with the rich, tender rose is a perfect balance. It is a line that I hope to know better in the near future. (I have tried a couple of other Rosines but I must confess I can’t remember what the names were, except for having the word Rose in them!.) This brings me to my subject: Annick Goutal Ce Soir Ou Jamais (“Tonight Or Never.”), released in 1999. It actually reminds me quite a bit of Un Folie de Rose with its green opening and slight astringency. In fact, there was a very brief “oh no” moment for me when I first put it on, thinking it was rose geranium as it was so sharp, but it passed quickly. (Not that I could ever really imagine a Goutal perfume with a problem like that!) When it has been on the skin for a few minutes the sharpness subsides and it becomes softer, and a hint of violet peeks out. After a little while it gets richer and almost jammy, but never cloying, as there are other subtle notes in play that keep a certain immediacy and freshness to the fore. According to the Bergdorf Goodman site, it has pear and cassis in it; I can’t really separate them out from everything else very well (reportedly 160 essences are involved in the composition) but I think I can tell what the pear is doing. It has the comforting feel of a chilled, poached (or dare I say even canned?) pear, the kind of thing one eats on a hot summer day when nothing else seems worth the effort. The Annick Goutal web site says there is hibiscus as well, which is where some of the sharpness must be coming from. This is only a sense, a gossamer veil of cool greenness over it all, since the centerpiece of the scent is Turkish rose, and it is magnificent indeed. I never had to wonder for even a moment if any shortcuts were taken in the selection of the ingredients for Ce Soir Ou Jamais. This has within it one of the finest rose essences I have ever experienced, and it is further rounded out with very good jasmine and ambrette seed. The jasmine behaves itself remarkably well here, and is used to do what only it can, to showcase and enhance the rose, making it bloom with sensuality while keeping its own character in the background. The drydown of this perfume is very pleasing, as the ambrette seed accord melds with skin to create a long-lasting impression. I have worn this fragrance to work several times now – the carded sample was quite generous. While it lasts on me all day, it never gets too strong, and I only catch fleeting sensations of it on myself. I find it to be civilized yet romantic, and far more wearable for day and even the office than some other more intense rose scents that are best left for evening wear, such as Magie Noire, Nahema or Caron Parfum Sacré. Yet it is not without a strong character of its own, and it is certainly not one of those pallid mass-marketed “rosy” scents that wither away to nothing after thirty minutes. It is simply a deliciously dimensional true-rose fragrance for rose lovers who don’t want to “save” their favorite perfume for special occasions. I don’t know why I never discovered this scent until now. Perhaps it is because there are so very many Annick Goutal scents and I never can get through them all at my local shop before I am entranced with something else – they are displayed close to the L’Artisan, Amouage and Hermès lines, so I am always flitting back and forth like the world’s happiest honeybee; I think I need to check in to the Home For The Easily Distracted. Perhaps it is because the name does not have anything to do with roses so I never knew that’s what it was. In any case, this one goes right up among the top ten rose scents for me, joining Parfum Sacré, Nahema, Sa Majeste de la Rose, Un Folie de Rose, Magie Noire and of course Joy. The others on my list keep changing as I discover them and I say, Oh, I like that one the best; No, it’s that one. But of course the beauty of it all is that I don’t have to choose at all, until it’s time to buy a bottle. I can just keep falling for all those rose scents over and over, as long as it takes. Image credits: Special edition Ce Soir Ou Jamais bottle & velvet case from Passion for Perfumes, a perfume bottle collectors’ site. Photo of the perfectly formed and extremely fragrant 1843 Hybrid Perpetual Rose ‘Yolande d’Aragon’ from roses.ausgarden.com.

Perfume Review: Caron N'Aimez Que Moi

Created in the beginning of World War I, N'Aimez Que Moi was meant to be an oath of faithfulness, of willingness to wait, to love only Him, and a manifestation of hope that He, despite the distances between, will love only Her. Times changed, we became that much more sophisticated or, rather, cynical. We wouldn't dare to pronounce, Love Only Me, in fear of being seen for what we really are, vulnerable and unsure. And yet, in the heart of hearts, we, the urbane, proud, nonchalant and afraid of absolute commitment, all carry that simple and poignant desire to be loved forever and ever above all others and to love just as much in return. To get through tough times of separation and anxiety and to live ever after the uncomplicated life of happiness. The simple blend of N'Aimez Que Moi is as old-fashioned and as forever modern and meaningful as the feeling it was supposed to commemorate. The sweetness of rose is enhanced by a touch of vanilla. The orris accord adds to the composition the endearingly retro powdery feel that I adore. The very subtle lilac note freshens the candied blend and makes it that much more fragile, that much more melancholic. The satisfyingly solid, warm base of sandlawood and amber is a promise of happy end, an assurance that, as Bulgakov's Woland said, in the end "everything will turn out right, the world is built on that." Available at Caron Boutiques. Image source, gucci.com.

Roses, roses and more roses

By Tom This weekend was lunch with a friend who wanted to stop into Barneys to meet a jewelry designer (she writes about, and is into jewelry). Since I am into gems with approximately the same fervor as I am into, say, Football, I went over to the perfume counter to the Serges. I looked everything over and realized that I have at least decants of practically everything in the range except the really girly ones like the fleurs, and Sa Majeste la Rose (Her Majesty the Rose), his rose fragrance from 2000. Now, I love the scent of roses but have difficulty with rose scents. I usually find them either too fan-oneself feminine (Caron Or et Noir) for me to get away with or just plain cheap, Sa Majeste la Rose falls into the former category. The opening reminds me of the scene in "American Beauty" with Mena Suvari in a bed of impossible, technicolor red rose petals. These are roses in CinemaScope. Roses in Dolby stereo. Perhaps roses in Sensurround. As big as they are they are also lovely, and very true to Moroccan rose (my friend has some, and I checked) with touches of citrus and mint to cool and soften. As it wears, it adds a hint of cloves, woods that seem more like stems than wood and a hint of skin musk. I think that Sa Majeste tends to get lost in the shuffle against Lutens far more mysterious (and of course harder to buy) Rose de Nuit, which Colombina calls "a little bit of a Goth and a lot of Glamour". Sa Majeste is a little more obvious, in a Joan Collins (I saw her once crossing a street in Beverly Hills on a sweltering day in her perfect Chanel suit, make-up, hair and pumps: a vision of Hollywood glamour and looking cool as a cucumber) kind of way- a good thing in my opinion. $120 at Barneys, Aedes, Luckyscent and the rest of the usual suspects.