The now discontinued Yves Rocher Pur Desir de Gardenia (i.e. pure desire for gardenia) is perhaps the most lamented true gardenia discontinuation in perfumery, barring the one by Estee Lauder (Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia).
Tom Ford's Velvet Gardenia comes up a close second or third maybe, representing the browned ripe gardenia that is just starting to deteriorate beyond salvation. It has been discontinued and brought back in the Reserve Collection.
"Lushest, wettest, freshest, creamiest jungle gardenia. White petals and thick green leaves. That's it and it's all there. This is the most realistic gardenia fragrance." Thus writes about Pur Desir de Gardenia a reader and I can totally back this up.
Pur Desir de Gardenia is the essence of gardenia, built on jasmolactones and with a touch of styrallyl acetate maybe for the green part, in a sort of old-school-technique that perfumers used to do so well and then abandoned. The creamy and the lush elements are freshened up with the intensity of the green in Pur Desir de Gardenia, giving me the illusion of a budding gardenia, one which unfurls its petals in continuous orgasmic fervour. A marvel and at the same time a romantic elegy. The folly of not stocking up when one could...
It's a puzzle why Yves Rocher stopped making this, as their Pur Desir line of soliflores was excellent to begin with, and this one was the jewel of the crown.
The perfect embodiment of a single flower, that of the gardenia, is this vintage fragrance which those who recall it love with the unbridled passion reserved for true gems.
Meeting with a new Puredistance fragrance is always a time for pleasure and for introspection. The newer Divanché is said to be inspired by Japanese gardenia, so how could I not be mesmerized into trying it out?
Although gardenias and white flowers have captured the imagination of the past with classic specimens at the heart of illustrious floral chypres, pear and pineapple are two entirely contemporary fascinations of modern perfumery. In fact a minuscule facet of sulphur unites the two materials, producing a common thread that reflects one another like the two faces of Janus. As a colleague chemist notes, "the pear profile often overlaps with other fruity odours; saturated esters often have apple tones, while unsaturated ones have pineapple and berry tones."
Pear especially possesses soft, juicy qualities, a little bit like unctuous sweet treacle, gelatinous and translucent too, and is very popular for a reason. It's succulent without leaning tropical. It first appeared prominently many years ago, in Laura Biagiotti Tempore Donna (1999) and in D&G Feminine (also 1999), but only lately has it been highlighted in recent launches opting for newer chords and newer fruity effects.
In DIVANCHÉ pear is very much present in the diffusion of the fragrance, the main protagonist, juxtaposing the light mushroom-like moistness of the gardenia and the hints of lactonic elements hiding in the recesses of the formula (a hint of peach, more than a bit of jasmolactone, a soupçon of fig leaf and milk). It feels ripe and rich, yet fresh and softly caressing, like the wings of an angel or the frisky fur of a long-haired kitten if you're so inclined.
It also recalls Japanese stationery with its cute factor intact which is probably fitting given the Japanese background for this Puredistance creation. The woods and musks sensualize and round the floral heart. Finally, resinoids lead the fragrance to an unwavering denouement where DIVANCHÉ gains the feeling of a soft whisper over the skin. It is discreet and polished, not intense.
I am reminded of the Greek term for "beautiful" while contemplating the concept of the new Calvin Klein feminine fragrance, Beauty. The term is όμορφος which literally translates as "of good shape". Contrary to just a lucky roll of the genetic dice, nevertheless, the Greeks have another word to describe someone who impresses our aesthetics with their comportment and appearence, both: ωραίος. This term etymologically comes from the phrase "of its time" and further signifies someone that is in equilibrium, in harmony with the surrounding world: Clearly being ωραίος requires some degree of intellectual and aesthetic effort, contrary to όμορφος! And yet I can't really say that Beauty by Calvin Klein is either. It's pretty (effort number 3 to describe aesthetic value!) and will wear well on many wearers, but in view of the above it fails to instigate either the sense of awe that a DNA-induced Royal Floss would or the grudging admiration a witty and wily leading of the cards in a whist Grand Slam would produce. Beauty is the equivalent of a computer solitaire game; it passes the time pleasantly and that's it.
Supposedly the fragrance was created to support Calvin Klein's clothes collection, with no aspirations of outward seduction (contrary to Euphoria or Obsession which play their intentions face up on the table). Thus Beauty has been promoted as a scent for mature women who choose fashion from the CK line and enjoy his familiar style and minimalistic brevity. To incarnate these, the creating team chose the calla lily. Now calla lilies are not especially renowned for their potent scent (other varieties are prefered, more on which on this article on Perfume Shrine) so perfumer Sophie Labbé turned her attention to ambrette seed for a little intimacy (it's a natural source of musks), jasmine for a floral heart and cedar for a Laconic, dependable base; or the "neo-lily" as the press material would want us to believe. Briefly speaking, Beauty by Calvin Klein doesn't really smell of any of these components. Probably because these are fantasy notes meant to evoke a feeling rather than a photorealistic representation. Its intent is to follow the path of best-selling Beautiful by Lauder, minus the stigma of "old" which an 80s fragrance would risk producing, and to capture the attention of late 30s-early 40s women who secretly love Daisy by Marc Jacobs but find its "just washed my hair & put a plastic flower on it" contraption too young for them. It's also intended for an audience who shy away from the "dirty" indoles (molecules naturally hidding in white flowers) ~an idea which incidentally Jacobs also tackled with his chaste Blush~ and those who are wary of offending people in the office space, yet want something that has a hint of feminine personality; not another brief splash of eunuch citrus or a super-clean musk that passes as fabric softener... In those regards Beauty succeeds.
The scent of Beauty by Calvin Klein overall projects like a soapy fresh, peachy and somewhat green tuberose/jasmine in the mould of Do Son by Diptyque or Voile de Jasmin by Bulgari with the requisite "clean musk, clean wood" drydown with only a hint of vanillic sweetness: the concept of a fresh floral jasmine scent with a wink of synth lily . Only whereas the charming rural iconography of Diptyque and its Vietnamesque inspiration provided a plausible excuse for a timid, beginner's tuberose lost in the bamboo shoots of the jungle, the much more impressive (and yes, urbanely elegant in its brushed aluminum) bottle of Beauty ~fronted by model/actress Diane Kruger no less~ predisposes for more, so you're kinda left hanging there... You can find an inexpensive and pleasant jasmolactone-based fragrance similar to this one in Sonia Kashuk's Gardenia No.1, as well as in several body products and shower gels advertised as boasting fresh jasmine or gardenia notes ~the latter also based on jasmolactone molecules (you can also detect the accord in Labbé's own refined "gardenia", Cruel Gardenia for Guerlain's boutique exclusives). So, it all depends on whether you like the CK bottle enough to purchase. In this card game, I'm afraid we've been redealt.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
