Cacharel Eden: fragrance review & musings on contemporaneity

 Cacharel's Eden from 1994 is the precursor of neon green compositions like Mark Jacobs Decadence and Thierry Mugler's Aura, which were introduced as so trailblazing in recent years, but they're not. Considering that the latter with its green rhubarb-gardenia accord in the eau de parfum has sparked comments of very herbal mouthwash, grassy soil, muddy swamps and musty cellars, bugs and bug poison, etc., it's not unfathomable that Eden has also been rather challenging for modern audiences as well.

 Back then, nevertheless, it was "the newest Cacharel" and its youth appeal was palpable. Every teenage girl and budding woman has fond memories and references in everything Cacharel made. There was no frog in sight, only princes.

The opening of Eden blends luminous citrus notes but also the sharpness of grassy-sweet patchouli, a hint of the jungle. Something untamed and lurking in the background. The cold water freshness of water lily (or lotus or pond lily) in the heart is combined with a complex, heady mix of floral notes (tuberose, mimosa, jasmine, rose and lily-of-the-valley) and sweet juicy fruits (of which pineapple and melon are probably the most referenced, though they smell of neither, per se, as the molecule used was Calone, as was customary back in the era).

The water notes are in perfect harmony with sharp patchouli and the warm, woody base of cedar and sandalwood and probably vetiver too, creating the terrain of the bog of a sorceress. Perhaps Eden shouldn't be recalling Eve, but rather Lilith, the first bewitching woman. The more the fragrance stays on, the sweeter it becomes, with a faint whiff of the compote peaches in rubber of Gucci Rush. Or rather the two are on the crossroads of fruity chypre and floral oriental, borrowing elements of either style and re-jingling the kaleidoscope to create a new image, a sort of musical-style Dear Prudence rendered olfactive — especially in the version sung by Siouxsie and the Banshees in Venice.

Serge Lutens Vetiver Oriental: Tendrils of Earthy Green

photo copyright Elena Vosnaki

I cannot shake the impression that the task of scaling down, of attenuating the formula of Vetiver Oriental to the richness and sumptuousness of the material's roots is an algebraic challenge, a piano étude aimed at perfecting a specific agilité that is not in tune with the Lutensian way of usual opulence. And yet...and yet the result speaks in hushed, nocturnal voices of a decadent drawl; a few chiseled citrusy consonants, a little rubbery-smoky with the rosiness of gaiacwood, surprisingly sweet-spoken licorice-like (deriving from lots of anisaldehyde) with the earthy bitter edge of dry cocoa and loads and loads of polished woods, almost laminated... Read my full on fragrance review of Vetiver Oriental by Serge Lutens on THIS link.