Paco Rabanne La Nuit: fragrance review

 Naked Lady Godiva, Countess of Mercia, rides on her proud gray horse, with leather bridles and wet saddle, keeping her word as a personal wager against her husband, on the occasion of relief from her husband's excessive taxation to the residents of the county. A peeping Tom peeps despite the curfew of the residents. 

This is the image that gradually appears and disappears in my mind - and maybe Rabanne's own, as he was immersed in spirituality for the latter part of his life- as I smell this wonderful creation by Jean Guichard for Paco Rabanne, La Nuit de Paco Rabanne. 

 John Collier's famous painting of Lady Godiva

 

The glamorous image of the TV spots with the woman in an evening lamé dress and flowing long hair, coiffed in 80s style with lots of volume tell only half the tale... 

 

This bold leathery chypre is proud and daring. The green whiplash of artemisia is precious as it segues into honeyed notes, rich and lush. It's easy to get back because it's so horsey at this stage. The alliance of oakmoss with civet and leather in Rabanne's La Nuit raises it into the pantheon of cult classics, though and it remains an unparalleled gem in the collection by the great designer. It's a shame that this gem was discontinued so soon, yet it will always remind me of the great designer of the Space Age, of the 1960s and 1970s. It is at once so much in style with his boldness and at clash points with his overt futurism. 

La Nuit Paco Rabanne... Partout où est la nuit (Everywhere where it is nighttime).

Paco Rabanne La Nuit: fragrance review

Smell La Nuit by Spanish-born designer Paco Rabanne and nostalgise about the 1980s with a vengeance. In that carnal decade, La Nuit was aimed at "the sensual, sophisticated and modern woman" "partout où est la nuit" (everywhere where it's night-time) and was quite abruptly discontinued in the following decade. Paco Rabanne fragrances from the 1969 cool Calandre to the 1988 men's aromatic Ténéré and the excellent 1979 Métal suffer from market maladjustment despite their pitch-perfect tune-in with their times; they fly under the radar for no good reason and get discontinued all too unjustly. La Nuit (1985) is a similar case in point.

Poised between a leathery chypre with fruity accents and a deep oriental (with no great sweetness), Paco Rabanne's La Nuit, composed by perfumer Jean Guichard, is vaguely reminiscent of the danger and swagger of vintage Narcisse Noir by Caron: c'est troublant! It also has elements of the sharp scimitar weilded by Cabochard and the urinous honeyed leather of Jules by Dior. 
Once upon a time a certain biophysicist with a keen interest in perfumes had given away the perfume's core character by (positively) claiming that it smells "as if you sprayed Tabu on a horse", thus delineating the two main directions the composition goes for: civet (of which Tabu has oodles) and leather. This of course goes contrary to prior writings in French where he compared the upkeep of interest in smelling the dissonant top notes with musicians tuning up their string instruments before a concert. His apology and excuse?

 "My extenuating circumstance was that at the time (1985) I lived in Nice, where women can be toe-curlingly vulgar, and it was a big hit. [...] Now that the Niçoises have moved on, I see it for what it was all along: the sexiest fragrance since Cabochard”.

The construction of Paco Rabanne's La Nuit lies in the precarious juxtaposition of unassuming, fresh ingredients over "animalic" notes (those smells which recall real animals or rather our libidinous animal urges, as delineated by the discourse between Jung and Freud). The top of La Nuit is profuse in linalool, rather aromatic with a hint of spiciness like basil and myrtle, and a "bruised" citrusy note that results from the aging process in the vintage bottle. In the evolving process, golden hued plum and peach skin (the note made famous by undecalactone in Guerlain's Mitsouko) lend an old-school, rich saturation; compared to the graphic shrill effects that many contemporary fragrances go for in their search for "freshness", 1980s fragrance seem akin to canvases painted by the Great Masters. Of course this tells us more about the state of perfumery now than about La Nuit.
What transpires through this deep, pungent fragrance is an animalic, sweaty mantle (made slightly austere by a woody note of cedar) that engulfs a honeyed rose heart, the latter perhaps reminiscent of L'Arte de Gucci; the rose isn't what it's about nevertheless, but serves as a feminine counterpoint to the more unisex animal notes: Not only a huge dose of civet, but also the whole kit-and-caboodle of retro musks, intimate-smelling beeswax and bittersweet leather, almost urinous notes. The effect is a rich, individual leathery fragrance which can be quite alluring on the right type of defiant woman (or a discerning man); personally I can easily imagine it on Violetta Sanchez.

Extremely tenacious for an eau de toilette and even an eau de parfum (the latter slightly better nuanced) and very discernible sillage make this a vintage fragrance to use sparingly, especially if you "don't want to offend". (Then again, what are you doing playing with La Nuit?). The parfum (procured via a valued friend collector) is frankly exquisite.
I don't find it as debauched or decadent a scent as other hunters of the vintage scented gems (the term affectionately used is "skanky"), but rather edgy and quite French in its "je m'en foutisme" that French perfume wearers always had about their personal choice.
No wonder it's discontinued...

Notes for Paco Rabanne La Nuit:
Top Notes: Bergamot, Lemon, Tangerine, Myrtle, Cardamom, Artemesia (Armoise)
Heart Notes: Jasmine, Rose, Pepper, Peach
Base Notes: Cedarwood, Leather, Patchouli, Oakmoss, Animalic note, Civet

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The Leather Series (leather scents directory with history info &fragrance reviews)

Photo of Arielle, Monte Carlo 1982, by Helmut Newton

Trussardi for Women & Donna Trussardi: fragrance reviews

There are fragrances which appear like a ghost from another world: New apparition, same old quirks; there's just something immediately common and yet at the same time quite different. Trussardi has two classic feminine fragrances in their repertoire which are great and they're both utterly lovely in differing ways, yet with a common calling card: Italian elegance and panache!

Trussardi for Women is elegant and chic as befits a classic floral chypre: Essentially timeless, yet so characteristic of the 1980s when this type of fragrance romped the executive ladders across the Western world, Trussardi came out in 1982. This is a cool customer: I can imagine that the all-white mock-crock flask bottle with the superimposed tabac leather medallion with the afgan dog profile (leather goods company Trussardi's trademark) is appealing to a certain type of person: She is always elegant even in 100F heat, preferably in all white, intelligent in a non studious way, more than a bit of a ruthless calculator, rather like Kathleen Turner in Body Heat (Surely Barbara Stanwick's best successor!) The fragrance inside however is all that and more: Hell, it can melt even the kindest of hearts! The characteristic perfume-y start is typically 1980s power chypre fragrance and directly derived by such powerhouses of unabashed audacity as the classic Bandit. Lovers of the very perfumey, very arid Gucci No.3 will recall how Italians embraced this type of fragrance and suffused it with a sense of luxury.

Trussardi for Women is indeed a sharp, arid composition with a good amount of pungent leather, centered around the classic bouquet of rose, jasmine and lily of the valley; the latter for its expansive properties which boost the effect of the deceoptive "cleanliness" inside and lets the other florals bloom ~among them a hint of tuberose. None of the notes are especially airated, creating a dense, pungent and slightly masculine effect with a hidden sensuality: the sandalwood, styrax resin and patchouli detectable at the dry down phase of the fragrance create a come hither vibe that is hard to miss. 

"You're not too smart, are you?...I like that in a man" she says....

On the contrary, Donna Trussardi, this time composed by Jean Guichard in 1994, is a much sunnier, open-hearted and more outwardly seductive composition that veers into floriental. Although there is a floral heart once again, the ambience is different, set on warmer tonalities, like the smile of a genuine seniora Italiana. The departure is much less sharp or perfumey, choosing instead the synergy of mandarin and ginger which imbues the fragrance in the saturated colours of the grand Italian masters. From then on, if you lean closely, you might detect several flowers, all singing in unison yet sometimes one can overtop the other in a game of hide &seek. I detect ylang ylang, carnation and a smidge of tuberose. But the real deal in Donna Trussardi comes from the unfurling of a classic balsamic accord like sweet suede, built on labdanum and benzoin (which compliments the sweeter elements of the tropical ylang ylang with its vanillic undertone). Although a couple of elements from the chyprish predecessor are surviving (the citrusy counterpoint, the rose, the patchouli layer), those who experience Donna Trussardi in the squarish bottle with the rounded shoulders are a long way away from the prayer mantis mating game of the first version in the white bottle. Their seduction is more woman-next-door and for that reason more insidious.

I love them both for all the wrong reasons...

Somewhat confusingly, Trussardi for women (or Trussardi by Trussardi)  is also seen as Trussardi per Donna, which might make some believe the 1994 version is the older one: beware, the packaging is totally different and easy to distinguish. Both Trussardi for Women and Donna Trussardi are a rare sight nowadays in my corner of the world, but discounters and online auctions might be a source of procuring some.


pics via punmiris.com

Cacharel Loulou: fragrance review

When Cacharel Loulou first came out in 1987, there was a wonderful TV ad set to the romantic Pavane, Opus 50 by Gabriel Fauré and veiled in the mysterious bluish tones of the print ad. It featured a slip of a girl in a classic 20’s bob haircut dressed in a dark stretch dress (so Parisian at the time, very Azzedine Alaia!), swaying hurriedly through space on what seemed a film set, and when a voice called out “Loulou”, she turned to us –the viewers- replying “Oui, c’est moi” (i.e.yes, that’s me). It transported the Cacharel-trademark hazy contours and grainy shots of photographer Sarah Moon to the next level: a Lolitesque seduction. It has haunted me ever since...

The inspiration of Loulou by Cacharel: Loulou was meant to evoke the great film actress Louise Brooks and her Lulu role in the silent 1928 Pabst film Pandora’s Box (tamer than its title would hint at, but not by much considering). Louise Brooks has captured the imagination of discerning cinephiles ever since. Her trademark haircut (that actually recalls Cleopatra herself) has inspired many women and men alike. In fact Guido Crepax, the Italian sketch artist of “Valentina”, fashioned his notorious heroine of a vivid imagination and lush posterior attributes on her. The comic book had been turned into a RAI miniseries back in the late 80’s starring Demetra Hampton. The erotic TV-series was heavy in cultural referencing; indeed one episode was called ..."Lulu", reprising the Brooks character.

Loulou the Cacharel fragrance is almost forgotten today, although slightly less than those episodes, although it hasn’t been discontinued. In an age that pushes celebrity scents to an apotheosis, the natural urge of the perfume fanatic would be to turn to niche scents and/or classics from the distant past. Indeed this has been the case with many, as current literature on the subject indicates. That leaves many lovely perfumes of a more recent crop to the shade. Pity if you think about it. I had used the perfume for a while back, enjoying the wink in the eye it provided, the naiveté, the pure élan. It was perfection for those times!

The formula was composed by perfumer Jean Guichard, who is also responsible for Obsession (another 80’s hit), Eden (another forgotten Cacharel), and Deci Dela ( the delectable light chypre by Nina Ricci). Loulou bears the mark of the decade’s excess : lush and rich, it would seem completely out of place up until ten years ago when gourmands entered the scene. Somewhere between floral and oriental and with a similar feel to both Oscar de la Renta and Poison, Cacharel Loulou can also be viewed as a distant cousin of Guerlain's L’Heure Bleue. The sweet and a little melancholic heliotrope plus anise ties them together. The Cacharel fragrance opens on the characteristic note of cassis, a synthetically recreated berry base, quite sweet. This may become overwhelming on some, but the assistance of bergamot and aniseed manage to soften the blow of the top notes. Violet, mace and plum add their smooth nuances along with an armful of ylang-ylang, jasmine, marigold and a smidgen of tiare (that tropical flower of Tahiti), although one would be hard pressed to locate any of those individually, except for heliotrope perhaps which has a soft almondy scent, imparting a powdery aura along with the earthy orris: The feeling is almost retro, much like the whole ambience of the scent is after all. The fragrance lasts and lasts on the skin, suffused with musks and woods, with the insistence of tonka bean, a hay-like vanillic seed of a West African tree.

The bottle of Loulou looks best in the parfum or splash version (as depicted in the ad): a turquoise polygonal opaline that continues the house’s love affair with opaline (later to be reprised in green for Eden) topped with a dark red pointy stopper and garlanded with a burgundy red tassel : the contrast of colours is daring and unique, the concept vaguely inspired by Poison according to Michael Edwards. The Eau de parfum sprayer is sadly not as pretty.
To me Loulou will always remain the smell to match the young girl that had first caught my eye in the TV ads and myself back then : insouciant , oblivious to her own seductiveness. A wonderful fragrance, if rather sweet for everyday.



The commercial still produces a sigh of delightful and wistful reminiscence in me, like a dog who is sighing, her paws tucked in and her ears down at the completion of a tender, sad patting as if to part forever.

Photo of Demetra Hampton as Valentina via facebook. Loulou ad via Parfum de Pub. Louis Brooks in Pandora's Box via seraphicpress.com

Cacharel Eden: fragrance review

Named after the primeval garden of creation, Eden by parfums Cacharel broke new ground back when it launched (1994) "for the first time ever, encompassing the exhilaration of spring with sensuality", or rather the first fruity-semioriental-aquatic. Yes, I know, it sounds like an improbable combination like bacon ice-cream, but it managed to smell enticing nevertheless.

At least it did to me for the first bottle or so. Later I became bored with it and left it aside, never repurchasing. The body lotion I had bulk purchased was very nice and continued to remind me of the scent for a while longer. Imagine the shock and elation it provoked in me when my significant other remembered it when I brought out again a sample of it the other day and casually dabbed my wrists in this succulent fruity number. Memories, like cheap coffee, can come in instant form, after all, it seems! It’s a wonder those catchy innovative ideas like the offerings in the Je me souviens coffret from L’artisan Parfumeur (long discontinued) don’t lure in the buying audiences at a larger scale.


The bottle of the scent designed by Annegret Beier is completely friendly, in jade opaline, curved to fit in the palm of your hand, topped with a little green cap in the spray versions or a silvery boule in splash ones . Beautiful in its functionality.
When Eden first launched there was a big event that set new standards in the risky and costly mega –launches of perfumes: a whole garden recreated full with tropical and aquatic blooms and semi-clad girls in fountains following the cue of the print advertisements. Unfortunately, Eden didn’t sell that well, which incidentally is one of the reasons why it’s featured here today. In order not to lose such a highly covetable name and concept, Parfums Cacharel went on to create one of the first “flankers” of an original perfume, inaugurating a trend that has progressed so rapidly recently it has resulted in a dizzying exercise against Altzheimer's for us perfume lovers: It’s hard to keep up, I can tell you!
The follow up scent (i.e.the flanker) was Eau d’Eden and it is nice enough to warrant a separate review along the way.

Back to the fragrance at hand, Eden, composed by Jean Guichard, opens on tart fruits, namely bergamot, lemon, mandarin, and pineapple alongside melon ( the overuse of Calone was the note du jour of the 90’s after all). A very green smell also makes itself present, mixed with the fruits and the watery notes: it's not a typical fruity, nor is it a typical aquatic nevertheless. In its heart the standard rose-jasmine accord that forms part of most feminine scents is not particularly evident, instead that tree with yellow poms poms, the mimosa, with its sweet sugary, milky smell is the protagonist along with aqueous blossoms like water lily and lotus and a strange anisic component that casts a retro oriental shade on the proceedings. But overall the fruity heart has an element of bubblegum, but the girl popping it is so cute you’d be unfair to chastise her!
The base relies on cedarwood and a hint of patchouli. Sandalwood, vanilla and musk are also featured, although they do not peak as such. That warm, not particularly sweet, rather odly spicy base prompted Luca Turin to liken it to the smell of a wet cashmere sweater, which was later revealed to not be a bad thing. Never thought it were…

The flowers and fruits are happily Serpent-free in their wholesomeness, pre-lapsarian, the garden of Eden safe from the advances of evil for the time being. Even if this is not your thing, Eden does not disappoint: it's a love-it-or-hate-it kind of fragrance, which means it has something going for it. The good sillage and very good longevity are also pluses in my books.

Notes for Cacharel Eden:
Top: Mandarin, orange blossom, water lily, lotus blossom
Middle: Melon, pineapple, violet, mimosa
Base: Patchouli, sandalwood, vanilla, musk.


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