Guerlain Idylle Duet: fragrance review

Perfumer Thierry Wasser was allegedly inspired by the work of classical composer Hector Berlioz (he of Symphonie Fantastique fame), specifically from his 1841 opus Les Nuits d'Été, towards evoking a certain feeling in Idylle Duet, Guerlain's latest fragrance and a flanker to their release from 2009, Idylle. Whether he succedded in that task or not, you will be able to judge by listening to the piece below (Op.7, Villanelle). As regards the fragrance, it's an entry that could stand in any other mainstream brand. Which, for Guerlain, is a let down, I'm afraid.

Patchouli, a sweet & sour mix of "special harvest" origin (allegedly), non heady-shop-y variety can be sensed from the very beginning of the composition of Guerlain Idylle Duet, imparting a "modern" feel, flanked by floral notes. Technically a floral woody, although presented as a floral, Idylle Duet is not wildly different from the original, although it differs in a couple of points that would make a difference to a trained nose. The core of florals beneath the always-on-the-front-of-the-vortex patchouli is that ever popular screechy floral accord of sanitisied jasmine, peony, freesia, and lily of the valley. In short, a commercially successful "base" of best-selling aromachemicals that are bound to stir the strings of familiarity in most (and irritate the hell of me); in fact this was especially present in the original Idylle, which clearly aimed to catch the Narciso Rodriguez type fans. To pursue the comparison with the original, Idylle Duet further lacks the raspberry top notes of the original Idylle, as well as the perceptible muskiness in its base, although the well documented staying power of white musk is summoned to make it stay the course.On the blotter it's imperceptible, but it grows in strenght as time passes.
Bypassing that, the rose here is a little liquerish, a little darkish, good traits, but something is missing. Rose and patchouli are such a popular combination that either tilting the scales towards the woody leafy constituent (as in Voleur de Roses by L'Artisan) or towards the multi-petalled wonder of nature (as in Portrait of a Lady or the rather better Une Rose in the F.Malle line), one is bound to come up with something at least memorable. Instead the new release, despite its limited edition nature, is passable but ultimately forgetable, like a catchy jingle you heard in passing.

Fragrance notes for Guerlain Idylle Duet:
Bulgarian Rose, Indonesian Patchouli, Jasmine, Peony, Freesia, Lily-of-the-Valley, Lilac, White Musk

Idylle Duet comes as the latest feminine mainstream distribution for the house of Guerlain,(apart from the two new Aqua Allegorias, Jasminora and Rosa Blanca, announced here and more on which shortly) but it's a limited edition ~apparently due to its ingredients, but don't hold your breath. The new Guerlain fragrance is available in Eau de Parfum concentration in a 35ml flacon shaped like its antecedent. The box presentation is the same as the one for Ode a la Vanille but this time in rosy gold.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain fragrance reviews, Guerlain news, Floral fragrances.



Soprano Jessye Norman sings Villanelle from Hector Berlioz's Les Nuits d'Été Op.7 on poems by Théophile Gautier. London Symphony Orchestra, 1979, conducted by Sir Colin Davies accompanies.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria fragrances: notes, history & short reviews

It's easy to look down on the Aqua Allegoria line as an entry level for Guerlainophile wannabes. Compared with the house's megaliths, such as Mitsouko, Shalimar or Vetiver, these seem like fragrances with much less monumental heft and no aspirations for posterity. Yet this "allegorica" line hides a few gems that are more than a simple sent bon and some which manage to be memorable in themselves.
The Aqua Allegoria line began as an exercise in deduction in 1999: the baroque compositions of old were too complicated for a younger, budding Guerlainista who approached the brand from the point of reference of their mother's vanity and the fascination with their Terracotta makeup products. Guerlain was ripe for a change after influx of money from LVMH had poured into the old giant. Therefore a simpler, more joyful approach seemed like a good idea. Focus on streamlined formulae zooming onto the raw materials themselves in identical bottles was on the vanguard of a nascent approach to niche perfumery; only this time available at major department stores at affordable prices. If only things continued on that path for the perfume lover...but I digress.



Perfumers' Rift, Changes in Direction
Before perfumer Mathilde Laurent and Jean Paul had what seems like the fallout of the century (the two are never mentioned in the same breath and all innuendo that Mathilde had worked for the brand was meticulously averted for years), a bunch of the first Aqua Allegorias were composed by her. Incidentally these are the best ones, in scope of creativity, elegance of structure and flair for the individualistic streak. Some of the more modern ones, especially the solo-frutastic ones, seem like they're forgetting they're fragrances and veer too much into the flavours drawer positioning. Lately the compositions have reverted to rounder bouquets (ex.Bouquet No.1) or soliflores, such as the upcoming Jasminora and Rosa Blanca, that hark back to the original issues more than 10 years ago.

Several fragrances in the line are no more: official word wants the scents to have been limited edition all along, one new coming after the old one tires out. But it wasn't so clear cut in the beginning and the survivors (Pamplelune, Herba Fresca) indicate that it might have to do with actual perfume sales figures rather than with any concrete concept. Which is a pity, as a couple (Winter Delice, Flora Nerolia) have something of a cult following, but there you have it. Some can still be found on online discounters or Ebay.

Launches & Design
The original line-up comprised 5 scents in 1999, thereafter an addition or so each year, with a few exceptions, and then picking up at the steady rhythm of two per year, usually each spring with an eye to summer wearing. The original bottle design revisited a simplified bee motif: the honeycomb was embracing the top of the smooth glass bottle with the sprayer built into the cap. The original packaging used a romantic design of flowers or other materials (accordingly) on the outer box, rendered like a delicate watercolour. In 2010 the outer packaging of the whole line was revamped so as to be uniform; all white, the differentiation now only being the colour of the Napoleonic bee embossed and the vertical line crossing the Guerlain logo on the front's top. To my own eye, the older packaging is more successful, even if less coherent.

THE GUERLAIN AQUA ALLEGORIA LINE IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER:

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Herba Fresca (1999): A real herbal green scent. Focusing on mint, but not quite: the dew on the leaves, the fine herbs, its beautiful grassy ambience raise it one notch up from many herbal efforts from others. A survivor, it still circulates on Guerlain counters and is always in production.


Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lavande Velours (1999): Lavender is given the Guerlain treatment, but done lightly and softly: iris, tonka bean and sandalwood mollify the harsher, cleaner aspects of fresh lavender. Discontinued. Chamingly, it also circulated as scented linen powder sachets...

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune (1999): One of the beacon grapefruit renditions in the whole of perfumery. A wonderful creation that boosts the sulfurous fruit with bergamot, cassis, petitgrain, patchouli and vanilla. If you're among the lucky ones that don't turn this one into cat-pee on your skin (this is one fragrance that is testament to the diversification of effect according to skin Ph) you're set for all your summery needs. A proud survivor, it's still in production.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Rosa Magnifica (1999): Rose takes on a spicy mantle for a simple, but lovely interpretation of a classic theme. Miles away from classic Guerlain Nahéma of course. Disontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Ylang & Vanille (1999): The most Guerlain-like in the original bunch, it is a floriental with great tenacity and radience. Ylang Ylang is boosted by vanilla and fanned on soft notes of iris and jasmine. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia (2000): A memory of Sevillian orchards where bigaradiers and sweet orange trees sway their leaves and blossoms to the breeze. I find Flora Nerolia especially lovely, marrying as it does neroli, orange blossom and a hint of jasmine with a miniscule incense-woody facet in the bottom. (Lamentably) discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Gentiana (2001): Not groundbreaking, but if you enjoy the take of Angeliques sous la Pluie, you have good chances of liking Gentiana as well. Its mountaintop dry and cool air (due to wild gentiane) is a breath of freshness in a milieu where everyone is wearing something sweet and cloying. Discontinued. Was also available as scented massage oil.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Winter Delice (2001): The only truly limited edition, as it circulated in the autumn of 20o1 with a clear destination to be a Christmas/wintery scent, smooth, deep, sumptuous and comforting. The voluptuous depth of pain d'épices and labdanum is given a fresh counterpoint in pine (pinus sylvestris). Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lilia Bella (2002): A classic lily of the valley "clean" floral, slightly dishevelled by the inclusion of a healthy dose of lilac. Springtime and youthful floral. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lemon Fresca (2003): The well-known diet drink called Fresca is synonymous with refreshment and energising. Guerlain took this idea, making it a tonic to spritz on, full of sour notes of lemon, lime and bergamot. A little wood underscores, while an anise touch (just a tad) adds an air de famille. But it doesn't venture far off the lemon start. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Foliflora (2003): A millefleurs effect that was little convincing. Consisting of bergamot, neroli, apricot, white freesia, gardenia, sweet pea, angelica, vanilla and sandalwood, it's nice without rippling the pond. Discontinued.



Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Anisia Bella (2004): Aniseed is a classic mainstay in Guerlain fragrances from Apres L'Ondee and L'Heure Bleue onwards and here it's given a smothering of volatile notes such as bergamot and basil which complement its melancholic spiciness, alongside sweeter jasmine, violet and the discreet backdrop of cedar. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Mentafollia (2004): The simpler side-kick of Herba Fresca, focusing on bittersweet herbs. The latter is better, somehow, more complete. Predictably discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Orange Magnifica (2005): This is the first of the "fruities" Aqua Allegorias that really ruined it for the rest. A lovely Calabrian orange with a discreet almond background, progressing from the fruity to the lightly floral (neroli, clean jasmine). Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pivoine Magnifica (2005): A very clean, scrubbed floral that boosts the effect with hesperidia and the mainstays of iris-violet that Guerlain is famous for. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Grosellina (2006): Fruity-candy, cassis composition that accented the whole with fresh citrus notes on top. Nothing noteworthy really. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Tutti Kiwi (2006): An odd combination of kiwi and licorice, fanned on sandalwood and vanilla for sweetness. Probably my least favourite in the line. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Angélique Lilas (2007): Aqueous floral with notes of pink pepper, lilac, angelica and bitter orange. Luca Turin calls it a "footnote on Eau d'Issey years later". I believe he means unnecessary; it's not that horrendously bad. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Mandarine Basilic (2007): Two elements that contrast, orange-y sweet and spicy aromatic with ivy tones. Still available and in production according to official site.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Figue Iris (2008): Green fruity scent with fig leaves and fruits, very summery, dusted with a hint of iris so as to be reminded of the heritage. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Laurier Réglisse (2008): Another unusual combination, this time laurel and licorice. This gives a soft and green fragrance that has a unique taste buds appeal. Original. Discontinued.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Cherry Blossom (2009): A sakura perfume, simple and spring-like. Fresh and a little bit sentimental fruity floral. [Not to be confused with the stand-alone Cherry Blossom limited edition in the Louis XV flacon].

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Tiaré Mimosa (2009): A tropical note (tiaré) and one which is inspired by a tropical destination (mimosa is an Australia native). Spicy accents and citrus lift the sweeter base that includes vanilla, clean musk and vetiver. The popular "suntan lotion" theme. Still available.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nymphea (2010): The anniversary edition to celebrate 10 years of Aqua Allegoria is a floral with youthful image. I wasn't particularly impressed. Available from a bunch of places, often on offer.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Bouquet No.1 (2010): This was a travel exclusive edition that didn't circulate widely. A peachy white floral (jasmine, delicate fruity notes), I thought Bouquet No.1 is an elegant play on the ubiquitous fruity floral theme.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Jasminora (2011): A lovely and true green jasmine soliflore, with a refreshing freesia note on top. Review of Jasminora here.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Bouquet No.2 (2011): A tropical take on fruity notes of litchi, fanned on rose and iris for tenacity and elegance. More info on Bouquet No.2 here.  

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Rosa Blanca (2011): More info on Rosa Blanca here.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Lys Soleia (2012): More info on Lys Soleia here. 

NB: Dicontinued does not mean introuvable; it means out of production. There is still old stock left, some of which I have linked on each of the fragrances.

Top pic via Le blog de la mechante. Other pics via parfum de pub.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia: fragrance review

There is nothing more early April-like than the smell of bitter orange trees blossoming, their waxy white petals infiltrating the glossy green of the leaves and some fruit still hanging from the branches, like a reminder of what has been already accomplished.


Guerlain captured the ethereal vapors of steam off these delicate, ravishing blossoms and married them to a pre-emptying summer jasmine (middle-ground indolic) and the faint whiff of cool frankincense burning inside a Greek Orthodox church preparing for the country's most devout celebration: Easter. The citrusy aspects of frankincense compliment the fruitier aspects of neroli. Musk in the form of synthetic Cashmeran is anchoring the effect on skin. Guerlain's Flora Nerolia (a part of the original line up in the Aqua Allegoria line in 2000 composed by perfumer Mathilde Laurent) is like a snapshot of late Lent in Greece and for that reason is absolutely precious to me.

Notes for Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Flora Nerolia:
neroli and petitgrain (citrus leaves & twigs) in the top, and jasmine and orange blossom in the heart. Frankincense for the base.

Lamentably discontinued (much like the rest of the original line-up composed by Mathilde Laurent) with the exception of Herba Fresca and Pamplune, Flora Nerolia can be sometimes found on Ebay.
The history, notes and short reviews of all the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria scents can be found on this link. 

Background on the Photo (by anomieus/flickr):
As far back as the time of the dowager empress Wilhelmine Amalie an orangery garden was laid out at Schönbrunn which included a hothouse for overwintering bitter orange trees. In 1754 Franz I Stephan instigated the building of the Orangery by Nicola Pacassi, probably to designs by Nicolas Jadot. One hundred and eighty-nine metres long and ten metres wide, the Schönbrunn Orangery is one of the two largest Baroque orangeries in the world, the other being at Versailles. The south façade is articulated by an alternating series of large and smaller apertures with rusticated pilasters decorated with masks. The interior has a rhythmic sequence of shallow vaults and is heated by a hypocaust system. The Orangery served not only as the winter quarters for citrus trees and other potted plants but was also a winter garden used for imperial court festivities. Joseph II was especially fond of holding celebrations in the Orangery with festively-decorated banqueting tables, ranks of flowering plants and illuminations in the citrus trees. During a winter festivity in 1786 Mozart conducted his Singspiel "The Impresario" here.
The rear part of the Orangery is still used in its original function, while the front section, which has been renovated, is used for events such as the Schönbrunn Palace Concert series.

Guerlain La Petite Robe Noire no.2: fragrance review

Sharing the news a while ago on a second "model" of La Petite Robe Noire, a previous Guerlain fragrance that divided perfume enthusiasts, was a double-edged sword: On the one hand, one wants to like a new Guerlain, possibly because of the heritage and the luxe French factor. On the other hand, Guerlain lately have been reviving the brand in ways which have left a bitter taste in the mouth of hard-core fans, even though it garnered them new audiences and certainly a lot money in Swiss banks. La Petite Robe Noire no.2 has a problematic name to begin with, but that's not all.

Just imagine having to answer someone asking what perfume you're wearing; that affix of "2" in the end sounds fake and ridiculous to me. I realise that copyrighting names isn't easy, but if anyone could, Guerlain is the one who could recycle hundreds of names from their rich archives to spare this embarrassment. Olfactorily, La Petite Robe Noire model 2 leaves something to be desired and I can't say it has won me over, although arguably it's rather easier and less tooth-achingly fruity-sweet than the previous first installment which scared me with its insolent intrusion into my personal space when I had placed a blotter atop my book on Minoan pottery I was consulting at the time.

To its detriment La Petite Robe Noire no. 2 still features the gimauve accord (that's the marshmallow "note"), this time garlanded by orange blossom and dusted with powdery-dry notes that are oscillating between face makeup and white suede. The opening of La Petite Robe Noire model 2, clean, scrubbed and bright, is still revealing a light gourmand character with a vanillic interlay that veers into almond nuances; but it's smoother, cuter and thankfully less berry-rich than the previous effort. The cuddly quality and the dry musky suede feel are not without some charm, better expressed on a blotter or fabric than on skin (Is this also an effort to grab the consumer into the first instances of testing?).

Still, these "hip" fragrant launches, destined by their shelf placement for the connoisseur circuit of people shopping for fragrance (and Guerlain fragrance at that!) at the eponymous boutiques or the Bergdorf Goodman "corner", pose a question: Why are they becoming a central focus requiring ample time off in-house Thierry Wasser's busy schedule instead of having these powers directed at working on a smashing new mainstream release or a beautiful classy exclusive instead (like Tonka Impériale before)? Unless teenager gamines shop regularly at the above mentioned places and are cognizant of the Guerlain brand apart from their makeup line and the Terracotta range (which still drives a huge percentage of the company sales), I'm at a loss to understand the positioning of those fragrances, just like I was perplexed by the romantic thinking behind Idylle as advertised on US soil.


Apparently Sylvaine Delacourte, art director chez Guerlain, says the first La Petite Robe Noire sold well and we do know from the US launch ahead that the American audience was (oddly?) targeted mainly: The latter isn't anything new, even as far back as Chanel No.5 and Coty's bestsellers America has been the greatest luxury devouring market on the planet and justifiably a marketer's wet dream. Often they underestimate that market.
Still La Petite Robe Noire and La Petite Robe Noire 2 occupy that middle ground that is hesitant between donning a full on couture gown for special occasions or just everyday wear with hip accents for that party and end up smelling like they don't know what they're doing, raising their cocktail glass like the nouveau rich amidst family guests at a chateau in the Loire valley.

The bottle, still in the iconic inverted heart design that houses Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue, is now reprised in dark rose and the black dress on it is strappy with a lacy hem; more like a negligee, really, but in good fun.

Notes for Guerlain La Petite Robe Noire no.2:
Head notes: Bergamot, Lemon, Galbanum
Heart notes: Orange Blossom, Marshmallow, Iris
Base notes: Leather, White Musk


bottle pic via placevendome.be

Guerlain Mitsouko: fragrance review & history

Few perfumes are entangled in such mythos and in such erroneous rumours as Mitsouko by Guerlain. Mysterious, balanced, sumptuous, it's nothing short of a Gordian Knot which demands a swift cutting through its mysteries to arrive at the truth. And truth is not easily provided for this 1919 fragrance which closed the era of WWI and opened up Les Années Folles.

Famous patrons & their fateful stories on Mitsouko
Jean Harlow, the platinum blonde sex-pot of the 1930s who was born on March 3rd 1911, all slinky peignoirs and ice put on the nipples behind those satiny gowns, used Mitsouko in Dinner at Eight; it was her favourite fragrance in real life. Her platinum head was not what the creators at Guerlain had originally thought of: Mitsouko was right from the start destined for brunettes, while L'Heure Bleue was recommended for blondes. She gladly embraced both, much like she let her hairdresser put peroxide, ammonia, Clorox, and Lux Flakes on her naturally darker hair.
Little did Jean know that her first husband Paul Bern would be found dead and drenched in Mitsouko in a astounding case of a suicide just one week after the wedding. Rumours say that it was impotence that drove him to his act of desperation. Jean was put to record saying all three marriages she got into were "marriages of inconvenience". Perhaps the sad story inspiring Mitsouko perfume was a bad omen for her love life as well.

It certainly didn't really bring good luck to other famous patrons, such as the impressario of Les Ballets Russes, Sergei Diaghilev (who drenched his curtains with it) or Charlie Chaplin. In the unexpurgated diary of erotic authoress Anais Nin, Henry and June, Mitsouko features prominently as the perfume that June Miller asks to be given her by Anais. Of course, to follow the truism by Gore Vidal [1], lying had become Nin's first nature, so all bets are off on whether that actually happened: What remains is that Mitsouko was indeed Nin's scent of choice, alongside Narcisse Noir by Caron. Such is the repercussion of the scent in cultural heritage that a pop sensation of the late 1980s, the French duo of Les Rita Mitsouko christened themselves after it!

photo via toutenparfum

The Legend of the Creation: Myth and Misunderstandings


Lore on the inspiration of Mitsouko wants Jacques Guerlain to have wanted to pay homage to a popular novel of the time, “La Bataille” by Claude Farrère. In it Mitsouko, a beautiful Japanese woman and the wife of Admiral Togo, is secretly in love with a British officer aboard the flagship of the Japanese fleet during the 1905 war between Russia and Japan; Mitsouko awaits with dignity the outcome of the battle, nobly overcoming her feelings. Hence derives the confusion about the spelling of the name: although Mitsuko [sic] is a Japanese word, neither is it spelled Mitsouko nor does it mean "mystery" as the official press of Guerlain would like us to believe. Like other perfume tales, it's just that: a romantic allusion to "zee love storee" that enslaves women's imagination and stirs men's loins.

It's a fascinating discovery to find that Mitsouko despite its technical mastery and sumptuous character, and my friend's wittism when sniffing off a vintage bottle that "it smells the way a porn film would", isn't one for seduction: Luca Turin in his 1993 French guide recommended against such a use. It's debatable whether he did so because he found it not immediately accesible for such a purpose or because he deemed it highly intellectualised to demean it via lowly feminine wiles. The fact remains that although highly revered, Mitsouko is one fragrance which the Western man rarely considers as traditionally "sexy" among a stable of fruity chypres that manage to convey the idea of sexiness and erotic proximity much more readily: Rochas Femme, Diorama, even YSL Yvresse... Fruity chypres due to their typically lusher, more "golden" character with an injection of decay (fruit can easily go from ripe to overripe, recalling how a woman can do so as well) are a noted exception within that group of cerebral fragrances known as "chypres". Mitsouko could be the equivalent of someone reading the Financial Times in terms of smarts and composure. Perhaps this is why its erotic tension is not immediately understandable.

Cinematic References
In Louis Bunuel's cult classic Belle de Jour respectable newly-wed doctor's wife, but frigid and masochistic, Catherine Deneuve accidentaly smashes a huge "flacon montre" of Mitsouko in a symbolic scene in her bathroom before setting to spend the afternoon as a prostitute. Would the scene work equally well semiotically with another perfume? Doubtful...

Perfume writer Susan Irvine recounts how one day in Paris she shared a taxi with a woman [wearing Mitsouko] who smelled "the way God intended women to smell: plush, troubling and golden" [2]. And goes on to reveal in a Vogue article that adopting Mitsouko for a year produced no comments whatsoever from anyone, contrary to her compliments galore success with YSL Paris!

Understanding the erotic dimension of Mitsouko

Perhaps what's most interesting about the strange position of Mitsouko in its erotic charge is how it encapsulates two quite different perspectives on how human bodies should or would smell of. The 19th-century Japanese referred to western traders as "batakusai", which roughly translates as "stinks of butter" due to their high dairy consumption which gave their skin a cheesy aspect (isovaleric and butyric compounds do that); while the Brits found the Japanese in turn "fishy", again a reflection on an insular diet. How would the British officer and the beautiful Japanese wife named Mitsouko would have found a middle-ground between their human scents of passion?

Nowadays, Mitsouko is Guerlain's top seller in Japan, in a reverse homage to the brand that ushered Japonism in the mainstream many decades ago. This goes against all received wisdom that the Japanese go for "light" perfume and only rarely ever put it on themselves. One wonders if the cultural milieu of accepting smells that are different than those perceived as pleasurable in the West allows them a higher appreciation of this masterpiece of a scent.

Deconstructing the scent & formula of Mitsouko

The composition of Mitsouko was revolutionary at the time, even though it updated and -arguably- improved on the seminal formula of F.Coty's Chypre: The innovative peach-skin note perceived at the heart of the Guerlain fragrance derives from a modern synthetic ingredient, aldehyde C14 or gamma undecalactone (Peach essence cannot be naturally extracted). The inclusion of the famous base Persicol ("bases" are ready made smell-chords for perfumers) which included it contributes to the peachy, warm effect. Flanked by murky oakmoss and refreshing bergamot at each end ~thus composing a classic chypre chord~, it adds spicy accents reminiscent of cinnamon and cloves ~especially felt in the Eau de Toilette version which circulated till recently.  

Mitsouko also utilizes rose, neroli (a light-smelling orange blossom distillation product), woods, vetiver and patchouli for a short but succinct formula which balances itself between apothecary and pattiserie. The candied orange peel effect mollifies every herbal aspect, while the flowers are so subdued and well-blended as not to be discernible as such; if abstraction is elegance, then Mitsouko is very elegant indeed, without nevertheless losing its sensuality; there's a furry little animal hiding underneath it all, although you can't really place it!

The mysterious, haughty fragrance is in chasm with every recent pop trend, making a difficult love-affair much like its storyline; nevertheless indulging in a bottle of Mitsouko is the hallmark of the true connoisseur, like a fine Pinot Noir wine can be an acquired taste. If you try and do not like it in the end, there is no reason to beat yourself up for it, just because we proclaim it such a beautiful and smart fragrance; but be sure to give it a chance in different times, different weather (it expresses itself wonderfully on rainy days, which bring to the fore its earthy core) and different moods. After all, as The Bombshell Manual of Style declares: “Mitsouko has more sensuous layers to unpeel than Rita Hayworth dancing the Dance of the Seven Veils as Salome."

Comparing Mitsouko concentrations & vintages

Different concentrations and different vintages produce different effects. Vintage parfum extrait is so rich and luscious as to render experiencing Mitsouko a rare occasion of olfactory satiation. The oakmoss galore of as recent crops as Eau de Toilette and Parfum de Toilette from the 1980s and early 1990s is exquisite in its unsettling, deeply mossy ambience. The modern Eau de Parfum version reworked by Edward Flechier (this happened in early 2007 due to oakmoss restrictions imposed by European Union legislature, with Eau de Toilette being the first to reformulate) is the best rendition closer to the original idea, while the current Eau de Toilette seems thinned and yielding a bread, yeasty note which I personally feel is incongruent with the image which I have in my head of it.

Bottle Designs

The classic bottle design, called “inverted heart” because of its cap, reprises the design of another Guerlain classic L’Heure Bleue which was issued in 1912, due to the shortages of World War I [3]. It's the golden standard on which both Eau de Toilette and Eau de Parfum still circulate to this day. After the success of Mitsouko, the design stayed, as a gentle stylistic reminder of the two bottles opening and closing the period between the beginning and the end of the war. And indeed if L’Heure Bleue is contemplative daydreaming and above all romantic like La Belle Epoque, Mitsouko is mysterious and emancipated heralding the era of flappers like no other perfume.

Other presentations include the flacons quatrilobe, amphora/rosebud and umbrella bottle (for the extrait de parfum) and the montres (cyclical bottles with a gold pyramidal cap) for the very lasting and robust vintage eau de cologne concentration circulating throughout the 50s, 60s and 70s with the mint green, round label.
A limited edition flanker called Mitsouko Fleur de Lotus circulated a couple of seasons ago (you can read our review on it on the link).

Notes for Guerlain Mitsouko:
Top: Bergamot, Lemon, Mandarin, Neroli
Middle: Peach, Rose, Clove, Ylang-Ylang, Cinnamon
Base: Oakmoss, Labdanum, Patchouli, Benzoin, Vetiver.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain reviews, The Chypre Series

[1] In Palimpsest, a Memoir
[2] Irvine, S. The Perfume Guide, 2000 Haldane Mason
[3] Guerlain archives
pics via felixhollywood blog and parfum de pub

Guerlain Arsene Lupin Dandy: fragrance review & draw

It's probably not strange, but certainly unexpected, that a figure with retro connotations such as comte Robert de Montesquiou-Fézensac (who inspired not only Marcel Proust but also Joris-Karl Huysmans) should come out of a recent batch bottle of a Guerlain fragrance! Yet this is what happened when I tested Arsène Lupin Dandy, a scent that intrigued me for a long time before I put my thoughts into black & white.

(EDITOR's ADDITION: Please NB, due to ensuing legal disputes with L'Orsay who also have a Le Dandy fragrance, Guerlain has since dropped the Dandy from the name and now this is available as simply Arsène Lupin. The rest of the review mentions it with its older, longer name as that is what it was launched with at time of writing)


Given Jean Paul Guerlain's unfortunate recent comments and the futore which ensued, it's doubtful that we'll see another fragrance bearing his signature in the future. More's the pity, because amongst great perfumers of the 20th century, alongside his ascendant Jacques Guerlain of course, Ernest Beaux and Edmond Roudnitska, he certainly takes a place in the pantheon. Arsène Lupin Dandy, infiltrates Les Parfums Exclusifs, joined by Arsène Lupin Voyou, both in Eau de Parfum like the double face of Janus, and some of the other exclusive masculines (details here), is indeed a swan song of infinite grace and refined luxury. Much like some of Jean-Paul's best creations of his "golden years" such as Vétiver pour homme, Chamade, Habit Rouge (not Sport) and Chant d'Arômes , Dandy manages to exude richness without heaviness and luxury without one iota of vulgarity. This is how Guerlain ought to be constantly! Preferably in the mainstream sector as well.

Jean Paul collaborated, according to his own testimony, with in-house Guerlain perfumer Thierry Wasser to whom he passed the baton, on the two new masculine releases in their teak-wood-edged bottles. We will probably never find out the exact truth (especially given the two releases smell completely different and as if arrived at by different mentalities), so it's futile to press the point. Of the two fragrances, Dandy easily is the standout; the reason isn't hard to see.

Within this contemporary light woody chypre one can detect the emblematic character of 1920's & 1930's fragrances that made the reputation of Guerlain Parfumeur, such as Sous Le Vent (which which it shares the bitter green tinge of galbanum and the overall chypre elements, although it substitutes the murkiness of oakmoss with the quite different treemoss alongside patchouli and probably a smidge of vetiver). But it's also a modern enough accord to be featured in Martin Margiela's Untitled! The "nose" is reworking the best elements in the Guerlain tradition into formulae that are completely modern and can stand on their own in today's market.

Dandy is a grey suede leather which opens dark only to reveal lovely powdery nuances derived through ionones (floral violet & iris notes) and some spice later, very finely worked and flanked by patchouli and a resinous incense note. The citric aspects of the olibanum (frankincense) are complimentary to the hesperidic notes, which have a pleasantly restrained bitterish tinge, much like bergamot "spoon sweet" is the nicest to consume (same with sour cherry) because the natural tanginess of the fruit offsets the sugary aspects. The same effect is witnessed in maple suryp, which also has a passing resemblance with the resinous note in Dandy. The leather accord, immediately perceptible from the start, is in reality soft, maleable, velvety, echoing the suaveness of the literary character who inspired it. The literary character Arsène Lupin began his fictional life in 1905 (under "Lopin", until a namesake politician protested), smack-right into La Belle Epoque; an enigmatic figure in black-tie respendid with white gloves, a cape and a monocle, relieving the haute-bourgeoisie of their money, which seems like the perfect analogy for the clients of Guerlain Exclusifs!
The spices on the other hand (peppery bay and cardamom) provide a piquant tongue-in-cheek touch, fanned over the more predictable musk & light amber/labdanum impression of the far drydown, denoting the idea of a delicate "skin scent". The fragrance reads as a ballad of binary form.

For all its underlying complexity, appreciated through repeated wearings by both men and women who can snatch this easily for themselves, Arsène Lupin Dandy is a scent that does not proclaim its intricasies up front and keeps a cultivated air of mystery in the very best Voltaire tradition.

Notes for Guerlain Arsène Lupin Le Dandy: bergamot, bigarade, pink peppercorn, cardamom, violet, sandalwood, patchouli, cistus, olibanum.

For our readers a draw of a small decant out of my own stash: Say in the comments which is your favourite Guerlain fragrance and why and I will pick a random winner. Draw is now closed, thank you!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain news & reviews, Top 10 Memorable Masculines

Painting of French poet, writer and dandy, Robert de Montesquiou (1855-1921) in 1897. Portrait by Giovanni Boldini (1842-1931) via wikimedia commons.

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Bouquet No.1: fragrance review & giveaway

What do you get when you cross-polinate a popular feminine theme from the early 90s with the desire to break away from the simplistic fruitiness of the latest Aqua Allegoria fragrances? You get Guerlain's Bouquet Numéro 1!

Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Bouquet Numéro 1 was created by Thierry Wasser comprising notes of bergamot, freshly cut green grass, white flowers, delicate fruity notes, peach and jasmine. The fragrance arrives in a newly designed flacon with golden honeycomb, a bulby stopper with seperate cap (former Aqua Allegoria scents had no cap on the incoroporated bulbous sprayer) and a golden label, packed in an outer carton decorated with a pink bee, as you can see from the photographs I took of Bouquet No.1. [click to enlarge]. It really does look luxurious and pretty, doesn't it? Even though I personally preferred the more impressionistic outer cartons of yore.

According to the official blurb pains were taken to link it to the linage of the company: The name itself reflects Guerlain’s fragrance heritage, as it references the compositions of Pierre-François-Pascal Guerlain, founder of Guerlain, and his heir Jacques, namely: Bouquet du Roi d’Angleterre, Bouquet du Jardin du Roi, Bouquet de l’Impératrice, Bouquet Napoléon, Bouquet Duchesse, Bouquet de Paris and Bouquet de Faune. Personally I am not so sure the interweaving of quite so much history in what is definitely a modern juice is really helping either group of potential buyers: hard-core traditionalists or hip modernists. It seems poised in between, with a nod to the 90s (read further on) but not much beyond that to justify historical references that far back. It must be terribly difficult to reconcile the two, we've said it before.


Guerlain's Bouquet Numéro 1 reminds me of both a less sugary or dense 90s Trésor and of Estée Lauder's Pure White Linen Pink Coral from last spring minus the powdery aldehydes. Add the intense peachiness of MDCI Pêche Cardinal and you're almost there! (The same aromachemical as the latter ~which I hypothesized is Decanoic acid 5-hydroxy-lactone~ is used in this composition for the peach note). The introduction on a sharpish note of citrus plus green is meant to be refreshing. Almost immediately, the core chord of peach plus rose is palpable; that velvety, tender, very feminine lactonic vibe which was so obiquitous in the early 1990s through the bombastic popularity of ~mostly synthetic anyway~ Trésor and the products that followed in its zaftig steps. Today, when that theme has been exhausted in commercialised deodorants, body creams, even fabric softeners, it seems a little passé. Enter the bolstering of the peachiness in Bouquet Numéro 1 to render a contemporary fruity note plus ever popular white flowers deprived of their more conniving Gloria Swanson proclivities or animalistic meowing in heat.


They mention that "Guerlain in-house Perfumer Thierry Wasser has chosen to lighten the generous accents of jasmine and rose in the heart of the fragrance. Jasmine offers its light petals, and their lingering scent. Mirroring this emblematic ingredient, rose blend magnifies the heart. At the very core of the fragrance, rose epitomizes femininity. Guerlain uses the rarest essential oils of 'May rose' with a hint of honey for sensuality and 'Damask rose' for fresher and more spicy smell. These two emblematic ingredients optimize the signature of Guerlain's Bouquet n°1." Even though jasmine is touted as a core ingredient, there are no decaying indoles, or nighttime lushness; what I perceive is more of an abstract orange blossom plus a wink of honeyed lilac pollen which gives a little of an effet lessivière, polished though, while the rose, yes, it's discernible all right. The bouquet is therefore a fantasy one, much like the gardenia in the lovely Cruel Gardénia is a the idea of a flower on the drawing board seen through a camera lucida: what you see is assuredly not what you smell. Not that it matters of course! This concept of transparency and abstraction has been utilised also in their other Aqua Allegoria launch this spring, the more mainstream Flora Sudséa Nymphéa. It leaves me wondering how a perfumer of the Transparency School, like Bertrand Duchaufour or Jean Claude Ellena, would go about this kind of concept, yet I fully understand that Guerlain cannot deviate from the curvaceous path they have paved on for centuries.

The scent remains through its base notes a trail of sweet juicy peach and white musks, clean throughout. A gentle fragrance cloud rounded up at last with a delicate hint of almond aroma. The formula is more tenacious on clothes than on my skin where it retains the squeaky clean floralcy better and longer and I can report it doesn't stain. Certainly not "me" in any "cushions of white flowers thrown in a mad sexy war between lovers", but I'm at least happy it signals a deviation from the route of the last few (catastrophic in my humble opinion) Aqua Allegorias.

Aqua Allegoria Bouquet Numéro 1 is Guerlain's first global travel retail exclusive fragrance and available in 75ml of Eau de Toilette.

A sample of Guerlain Bouquet No.1 will be handed out to a lucky reader, randomly picked from the comments. Draw is now closed, thanks!

The bottle was purchased by me. All Guerlain photos taken & copyrighted by Elena Vosnaki.

Guerlain Tonka Imperiale: fragrance review & draw

"From his brown and golden fur
Comes such sweet fragrance that one night
I was perfumed with it because
I caressed him once, once only".

Thus writes Charles Baudelaire in his poem Le Chat (The Cat) defining the tamer interpretation of le parfum fourrure ("fur coat perfume"; for more info on this concept please refer to this article and this one). That feeling could equally well apply to the newest Guerlain exclusive, Tonka Impériale (Imperial Tonka). That is, if you rolled your cat onto caramel and roasted almond powder, assuming via some paradox of nature this feline was sympathetic to humans' desserts and borderline torturous treatment! Tonka Impériale is such a strange and compeling dessert following the manner of la grande patiserrie chez Guerlain, but also underscoring the composition with alternating sweetness & bitterness, luscious deep backgrounds and the multi-faceted nuances of one of the most prized materials of classic Guerlains, tonka bean.

Tonka, with its rich coumarin load, takes pride of place in the notorious Guerlinade, the common "thread" which characterises some of the classic scents of the house, so an étude on this material within a line which focuses on new spins on standardised materials (L’Art et la Matière within Guerlain's boutique scents portfolio) was a natural. Rather in reverse to what Liszt did to Paganini's motifs however, Thierry Wasser, the in-house perfumer at Guerlain who also composed Tonka Impériale assisted by art director Sylvaine Delacourte, subtracts elements from the classical Guerlains to render a purer, more direct and insistent message, like abstract art interpreting an idea of the Baroque Masters. The fragrance doesn't waver or develop, but manages to appear modern while retaining the luxurious and saturated quality of the old creations. A solinote on this material was sorely lacking for a house who has made it the sine qua non of their olfactory tradition and this new offering is salivatingly tempting, even for non gourmand-following folks!

Tonka bean (coming from the South American tree dipteryx odorata) is an exceptional and costly material that presents fascinating facets of culinary delights; from aniseed and licorice notes as well as macaroons, salty toffees and blond tobacco all the way to hay and toasted bread. The comforting factor these facets naturally exude is here coupled to an overdose of rosemary (according to Olfactorum and Esprit de Parfum). The pairing is logical: the almost salty, andorgynous end of tonka is close to culinary herbs. But the comfort factor should in no way evoke an Earth Mother type! In a way this is a modern play on the unisex idea of Jicky: the fougère nuance of lavender (here replaced by rosemary) played on the more langoruous scale of a semi-oriental thanks to the vanillic base (here the more honeyed, caramel and woody tonalities are accentuated). But it will also remind to some the honeyed veil (mimosa, orange flower, heliotropin) of L'Heure Bleue and its bittersweet harmony. Like every great groumand oriental that respects itself, it is also a little bit "poisonous" thanks to the coumarin.

The effect materialising in Tonka Impériale is an amazingly restrained and balanced oriental gourmand (much more in check, less boozy than Spiritueuse Double Vanille; equally delicious and wearable to Cuir Beluga) that I voted for with my Visa, as you can see from my photographs. Wearing it on winter sweaters and scarfs (where it clings for days radiating seductively) is akin to getting caressed by a honey mink étole while smelling fine cigars in a salon de thé serving the most delicious almond pralines on panacotta. Those who would be intellectually intrigued to see Guerlain spin a David Hockney and who keep their lava lamp close by will be left critisizing Guerlain for bourgeoiserie. Those who appreciate keeping the heritage alive will embrace Tonka Impériale with enthusiasm.

Notes for Guerlain Tonka Impériale: rose, orange blossom, rosemary, honey, gingerbread, almond, tonka bean, hay, tobacco, amber, vanilla
Tonka Impériale is available exclusively at Guerlain boutiques & spaces at 168 euros/230$ for 75ml of Eau de Parfum, from February 1st.

For our readers, to give them a chance to try this fabulous new fragrance, a big sample will be handed out to one lucky winner. Draw is now closed, thanks for participating!

All photographs by Elena Vosnaki/Perfumeshrine. Click to enlarge.

Guerlain Mouchoir de Monsieur: fragrance review

~by Mike Perez

Some fragrances play the part of the “quiet, silent type”. Let me explain: Strangely, there are fragrances that I’ve sampled that smell like nothing at all. Well…not nothing…but it smells as if a hole has opened up in the air and for a few minutes there is a blank space where the top notes belong. Like pushing PLAY on your IPod and watching the track begin (0:00, 0:01…) and no music plays. This has happened to me several times and I have no idea why. However, most of the time (luckily) scents that start out this way usually turn out to be fragrances that I grow to love. Like Mouchoir de Monsieur by Guerlain.

Before this I sampled the ‘classic’ lavender fougere by Guerlain: Jicky. The Eau de Toilette was too excessively talcum powder prominent, and although I could appreciate the lavender, it felt uncomfortable and slightly matronly on me.. Jicky Eau de Parfum is a shocker: so embarrassingly civet prominent in the top notes, I was instantly repulsed. Waiting for those top notes to calm down took a bit too long and tiresome so I considered sampling the parfum next when I got a sample of MdM.

The first time I sprayed it – I smelled a tiny bit of the Guerlinade, but that was it. Nothing. Sample off? Nose fatigue? A second time, I smelled a bit of the lavender but nothing as spectacular as the Aqua Allegoria Lavande Velours by Guerlain – a gushing lavender / purple violets that’s almost aroma therapeutic . The 3rd time I smelled it I was instantly greeted with a totally different accord – the familiar style of perfumery like Jicky – but swirled together into an entirely different pattern. Jicky remixed into a sturdier more solidly constructed accord. Wonderful! Perfect balance, with all of the parts of Jicky that I wanted: exceedingly high quality lavender, rosemary and bergamot; that unique fern aura; the rich Guerlinade – they are all here, but blended into the civet and woody notes in a richer and luxurious way. The fragrance evolves with a quiet, floral heart giving the patchouli a sophisticated, powdery nuance. Small parts of it remind me of wearing a refreshing eaux cologne, yet it simultaneously retains subtle and important details of Guerlain’s classic feminine fragrances. Not an easy feat.

It doesn’t scream for attention – it is essentially a subtle fragrance, hushed – making its presence known in tiny whiffs here and there, throughout the day, all day. It is, perhaps, for this reason why I couldn’t smell it when I first sampled it. There’s not a blast of aldehydes or synthetic woody ambers to diffuse this scent quickly. And the lavender, sometimes extremely medicinal and sharp, is soft.

I admit – I’m the quiet, silent type myself. At a cocktail party, you’ll find me off in the corner checking out the host’s CD collection instead of socializing and interacting with others. I speak very little but when I speak, I choose my words very carefully…looking you straight in the eyes.

I’m okay being this type of “guy”. It’s who I am. It’s who my father is. Problems come and go. Challenges are thrown my way... I have horrible days, just like everyone else does. I choose to keep all of that inside, most of the time – introspective, reflective and calm to everyone. Only when you get closer to me, do I open up, and only then will I reveal what’s going on underneath the surface.

Just like Mouchoir de Monsieur.

Notes for Guerlain Mouchoir de Monsieur (1904):
Top: lavender, lemon verbena, bergamot
Middle: jasmine, neroli, rose, tonka bean, patchouli, cinnamon
Base: Iris, amber, vanilla, oakmoss

King Juan Carlos I of Spain (depicted) was reputedly one of the few purveyors of Mouchoir de Monsieur before Guerlain decided to re-issue it more widely.


Pics of Cary Grant, Mouchoir de Monsieur bottle and Juan Carlos of Spain via Mike Perez

The history of the Guerlinade accord, original & re-issued Guerlinade perfume by Guerlain

Like many other confusing matters pertaining to fragrance history the often quoted name Guerlinade stands for several seperate things and disentangling them is at large an exercise in minutiae. Historical minutiae being within the scope of Perfume Shrine from the very start however we hope to cut through the knot which perfume companies often present us with. So this little guide is aiming at providing answers to what the Guerlinade accord is, how Guerlinade smells and in which Guerlain perfumes it can be discerned, which fine fragrances were named Guerlinade and their packaging and availability as of this minute.

Originally La Guerlinade was the code-name for an olfactory harmonious blend ("accord" in perfume-speak) ~possibly conceived by Pierre-François-Pascal Guerlain* but first referenced in relation to Jacques Guerlain** ~ that typified Guerlain perfumes in their classical compositions and made them the stuff of legend: Bergamot, jasmine, rose ~especially the Bulgarian version rather than the Turkish one~, orange blossom, iris, (possibly vetiver), tonka bean, and vanilla are said to be the main ingredients comprising it. Of course the exact formula of this special accord is guarded with the zeal Fort Knox is, but most perfumephiliacs can identify the above notes forming the characterist nuance of the chord that runs through the melody of L'Heure Bleue (along with trademark heliotropine) ~especially in Parfum de Toilette and vintage extrait de parfum~, Shalimar and Vol de Nuit; this nuance either captures in its guile or haunts with terror the fragrance enthusiasts. The fragrances composed by Jacques Guerlain especially are intensely redolent of this accord, although Mitsouko is less immersed in it, opting for the oakmoss chypre base under the notorious peach-skin note.

Strangely enough, the term only entered popular parlance outside of the Guerlain labs at the launch of masculine scent Héritage, as Sylvaine Delacourte, artistic director of parfums Guerlain reveals! Like a silky veil, the Guerlinade softens any sharp angles and smothers the composition in the purple hues of twilight. Its feel is polished, bergamot fusing its elegant freshness with rose and vanilla and the tonka bean gives a vague sense of hay, powder and tobacco. But its perfume-y ambience can also feel somehow retro which is why sometimes modern tastes run antithetical to its rich, textured feel.

Guerlinade nevertheless also happens to be the name of a Jacques Guerlain creation from 1921 which came in a beautiful bottle of intensely faceted crystal, shaped like a lekythos. The Guerlain archives include a vegetal lotion issued in 1924 with the same name, an early thought of an ancilary product so to speak. The scent after some "renovation" was re-issued as a seperate, limited edition Eau de Parfum in a new Baccarat flacon design to celebrate the 170 years of Guerlain in 1998 (circulating again as Guerlinade in a presentation that depicted paintings of Parisian life, depicted above) and later re-issued yet again in Les Parisiennes boutique line (in standard bee bottles, depicted below) upon renovation of the 68 Champs Elysées fragship boutique in 2005. Nevertheless the actual scent was different than its predecessor and the famous accord: it had a predominent streak of powdered lilac (a lovely one at that) ~and perhaps a touch of oily hyacinth garlanding it with its "dirtier" streak~ and little relation to the characterist chord that Guerlainomaniacs recognise instantly. Its powdery retro formula (a little iris, a little tonka) explored bouquets of impressionistic vignettes of Parisian life amidst equestrian scenes when gentlemen with horse-drawn carriages would bow down to pick up the handkerchiefs of ladies blushing beneath their veiled little hats. The homage in Guerlinade the fragrance was more that and less an actual reproduction of the exact secret formula for the Guerlain house "signature".

Today the fragrance named Guerlinade is discontinued and no bottles can be found at boutiques Guerlain updrading it into a collectible. Much like happens with other elusive limited editions such as the Harrod's aimed Belle Epoque from 1999 with its musk-veiled tuberose, the No.68 limited edition which reworked Guet Apens, the Champs Elysées Bacarrat turtle/tortoise bottle amongst them...

Yet the renowned accord hasn't died; far from it! The classic Guerlinade harmony was revisited in a Limited Edition commemorative Eau de Parfum fittingly called 180 Ans de Création (meaning 180 years of creation and issued in 2008 to commemorate the 180th anniversary of the house of Guerlain) Jean Paul Guerlain twisted the idea of the classic Guerlinade harmony, realising its aura is often perceived as admirable but a little outdated, and thus added contemporary accents in the form of grapefruit, pink pepper and white musk. The result is elegant, polished and a study in dry warmth and I sincerely hope it becomes more widely available than the gifts given out to the participants of the 180th anniversary celebration. In the meantime we can admire and savour the classical Guerlinade, "un état d’ Esprit", in several vintage Guerlain fragrances where it is shining in all its unadulterated glory.

*ref: Perfume Intelligence Encyclopaedia.
**according to Jean Paul Guerlain
Pics via passionforperfume.com and monkeyposh.blogspot.com