Jean Paul Gaultier Divine: fragrance review

Back in August 2023, Jean Paul Gaultier launched Gaultier Divine, the brand's new feminine fragrance, classified as a gourmand marine floral. American actress Yara Shahidi has been selected to represent the new fragrance, imagined as a celebration of femininity. It is signed by perfumer Quentin Bisch and is made of floral, gourmand, and marine notes. For Gaultier Divine the bet was on creating something that young women would want for themselves and everyone would like having them approach them. 

Gaultier Divine capitalizes on the marine semiotics which the Gaultier team has used ever since the cool matelot-clad sailor for Le Male. The marine theme is very tongue-in-cheek. On the one hand the homoerotic nuances of sailors, on the other the salty touch of the new fragrance aimed at women. The fragrance is depicted on women gazing at men at sea. But it's all a tempest in a bottle! The allusion to a scent that would create a similar tempest on those smelling it is not lost upon us. The women playfully cajole and seduce the sailor trapped inside this bottle. It's cleverer than a simple seduction trick in advertising and subtle enough that it does not scream sexist or cliché.

 

Solar fragrances are probably the genre into which I would classify this creation. The term solar fragrance notes (on which I have written extensively) expresses the essence of sunshine and the appeal of endless sugar-spun sands, or the embrace of tanned, warm skin. A perfumer uses helional and mainly salicylates to render this effect, sometimes heliotrope synthetics, too. Flower accents of tiare, frangipani, and ylang-ylang, contribute to this exotic field, alongside mimosa, coconut, vanilla, and salty or marine notes. But not all are used in Gaultier Divine which is as airy as a meringue.

pic borrowed from confessions of baking queen

Calypsone stands here for the iodic facets of oakmoss, as well as watery facets in the floral bouquet of Gaultier Divine, as the interplay between watery and yet non-sweet is beautifully rendered amidst the heart notes. My initial personal impression upon spraying is that someone crossed the bridge between the intensely solar-salicylate chord of Lys Soleia (Guerlain Aqua Allegoria), which was a bit too summery, and the much more delicate treatment of lily-salicylate in Vanille Galante (Hermessences). The latter, although baptized vanilla, is really a lily, the kind with white waxy petals and red stamens, spicy and sweet, yet alluring and mesmerizing. Benzyl salicylate has been the mainstay of this sort of genre, with benzyl amyl and cis 3 hexenyl, the mothership of solar fragrances. I am hypothesizing that Bisch is working his magic in Gaultier Divine with the salicylate molecule Karmaflor he has access to, if only to bypass the rationing of salicylates due to IFRA restrictions, but also to tie it to Mahonial (a lily synthetic) and Nympheal (a watery molecule that has flowery, lotus and lily facets). Lilies do have a salty nuance themselves, as deliciously explored in the once poetic Lys Mediterranee (it has now been tampered with somewhat).

The base is crafted through the synergy of mainly vanilla and benzoin, with subtly caramelic facets and a clean musk, but always balanced by the salty-lily drenched in the sea breeze chord — never too sweet like many other gourmands. It's the balancing act of a skilled equilibrist.

 

The effect of Gaultier Divine is therefore beautifully crunchy. A little bit salty, it resembles munching on savory toffee with fleur de sel snippets scattered in it, resisting to the tooth, like...exactly, an airy meringue. A success!

 Available as eau de parfum.

 

Thierry Mugler Angel Muse Eau de Toilette: fragrance review

In 2016, the house of Thierry Mugler opened a new chapter in the story of the famous gourmand galaxy of Angel fragrances - the "futuristic-gourmand" Angel Muse. The Muse Eau de Toilette version of this scent came out at the end of 2017. 

 

The sweetness of hazelnut cream at its heart, a repeat from the original Eau de Parfum version, is not overly foody, and it keeps the dignity that a sophisticated gourmand like the original Angel brings along (or I should say, used to bring along, before all the reformulations), with the Akigalawood™ base (a clear patchouli note) made dirtier with vetiver "borrowed from masculine perfumery." It is signed by perfumer Quentin Bisch of Givaudan.

 The great thing with Angel Muse Eau de Toilette is that it seems to have brought back that inexplicable playfulness that the original Angel version from the 1990s possessed and seemed to have lost during a sequence of reformulations in the intervening years. Becoming ever hollower, like cheekbones sucked in too hard and a fake pout posing for an Instagram selfie, the iconoclastic bestseller has slowly become a ghost of itself. An entire generation will never know what we have been talking about regarding its artistic value.

I remember the original formula quite well because what attracts me now in Angel Muse Eau de Toilette is what appalled me when I first smelled the original Angel in the 1990s (and I have written about my mysterious and troubled relationship with Angel before): the blackcurrant juiciness, which was so intense, so sour -and sweet too-  atop the maltol. To be honest, it instantly reminded me of The Body Shop Dewberry. Is this even possible? I wondered at the time, perplexed by the incongruity of a French designer borrowing this rather "cheap" effect for an innovative fragrance that would be his first on the market. I don't wonder anymore; I take things at face value.

In the words of Mugler officials, "Angel Eau de Parfum is the star, while Angel MUSE orbits around the star." (Christophe de Lataillade, Creative Director for MUGLER fragrances).

 The base of patchouli and vetiver, although advertised to sound masculine, as polar opposites to the femininity of the sweet heart notes, is not entirely rugged. It brings a counterpoint, like in a fugue, a motif that returns to underscore and chase the sweet gourmand and the sour-sweet top notes of citruses, and therefore renders it a love/hate for modern audiences who missed the great clashing compositions of the golden age of perfumery. Back then, vetiver violently clashed with vanilla in Habanita, or waxy-citrusy aldehydes were smeared with civet (but not quite!) in Chanel No.5 Eau de Cologne. Ah, what do we know, these scents have been lost on the younger generation. But there's still hope as long as small gems of unexpected pairings such as Angel Muse continue to get launched. If only they weren't chopped off the block so soon...