Bottega Veneta Eau de Velours: fragrance review

Bottega Veneta Eau de Velours from 2017, with a seductive name that evokes caresses with the softest materials, is a lasting, worthwhile specimen in the family of Bottega Veneta fragrances. Maybe even more lasting than the first eponymous release, Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum!

via Pinterest

For this very plummy flanker fragrance, which was a limited edition to begin with, we have a presentation in – you guessed it – velvet ribbon caressing the neck of the bottle, substituting the subtle kink of the strip of leather which encircled the neck of the original Eau de Parfum in a bit of tasteful fetish wear.

Those of you who do not like the actual bitter facets of leather fragrances, but instead long for the plush and the decadent sense of luxury that leather suggests, will find this rosier and softer version, Eau de Velours, by perfumers Michel Almairac and Mylen Alran, more to your liking. The leathery core is here, too, but don't fool yourself that it's a defanged mass scent of musks and fruits sprinkled with sanitized patchouli and ready for its close up like so many others. It's definitely close to the original, but the softness, with an interlay of starched iris, makes it less sharp, less androgynous, more comely, and I'm afraid a little bit more "middle of the road," if such a term like that can be applied for the Bottega Veneta fragrance line at all (which i'm sure it can't, but you get what I'm saying).

Eau de Velours is a prime example of those fragrances fit to scent one's autumn scarf – very close to the body, but rising with the body temperature to mingle with one's skin chemistry and becoming one's own. Sensuous but in control, it's commanding attention where you don't need to raise your voice or your eyebrows to make your salient point. Good going, Bottega Veneta!

Related reading on the PerfumeShrine: 
Bottega Veneta fragrance reviews and news
Leather Fragrances Series: a Complete Guide on Leather in Perfumery
How to Seduce with your Perfume
Chypre Perfumes for Newbies

Joop Homme: fragrance review

When King Kong punches his pectorals in wild dominance, you know there's an ominous threat of being squished into pulp any minute now. When Joop! Homme approaches, thundering like the bass off a distant Jeep with the speakers in full volume, you know you're in trouble. This thing is (or rather used to be) HUGE.

It shouldn't come as a surprise being conceived by perfumer Michel Almairac in the decade of excess, the 1980s, but it always comes into my mind with a chuckle when I consider that Joop! Homme is just 3 years senior to the perfume that needs to be applied with a Q-tip shaken before one's self to apply, i.e. Angel.

Much like that other Godzilla of perfumery it is a sweet perfume. And it's a deep pink; it's an ingenious counterpoint of a male fragrance being tinted in the color of Barbies and kids' cough syrup, and of a female fragrance (Angel) tinted in the hues of male childhood since at least Edwardian times!

The clustering of vanilla, coumarin (described as tonka beans), and heliotrope in Joop! Homme accounts for a furry-embrace experience from a King Kong in amorous disposition. And when you think your favorite primate is doing all the love motions known to primates since time immemorial, and drowning everything out with a welcome splash of Coca Cola, a beautiful, clean orange blossom note emerges like the corolla of a blossom. And then gets engulfed with fluffy notes like cherry pipe tobacco.

If "you beast!" is the desirable moan off the lips of a potential partner doing the down and dirty, Joop! Homme is a mighty fine choice. The Newland Archers of this world might find it crude though, be warned.

Chloe See by Chloe: fragrance review

When she's gone, beautifully arranged in her coffin, her hair in loose curls, you never quite remember the color of her eyes or the timbre of her voice, there are no emotional scars of fights you had with her, nor mirth with which you shared confidences laying on the golden wheat of summer in the sleepy afternoon. She's gone, and it was really fine while it lasted, but little persists behind. We all have a relative like that. The See By Chloé eau de parfum is a bit like that, hard to sketch in a few striking, characteristic strokes, but at the same time difficult to dislike; a monochrome which hums with a familiar, harmless buzz which you really can't place.

via becauselondon.com

In an uncharacteristic discordance between ad copy and actual smell the See By Chloé offshoot of the Chloé fashion house introduces the new fragrance thus: "This fragrance captures the audaciousness and strong personality of the Chloé woman. An addictive floral fruity fragrance, it captures the irresistible and playful personality of a young woman fully embracing life. The fusing top of juicy bergamot and apple translate her energy and her urban edginess. Her natural feminity is conveyed through a beautiful floral bouquet of jasmin and ylang that grows into a sexy veil of vanilla and addictive musks."
 Rather contrarily I find that the becoming elements of the fragrance are its elegant powdery scent, which translates as a bit retro, its bitterish soapy trail, and its subtlety of ersatz fruits. The "energetic" part is clearly delusional, if by that we have come to expect upbeat fruit salads with added zing. Perfumer Michel Almairac took a zig when you expected him to take a zag and infused the fruity floral fragrance archetype with a soapy-smelling, aldehydic and musky bitterness which makes See By Chloé both eerily familiar (it reminds me of segments off Lauder's Pure White Linen, Essence by Narciso Rodriguez and something else, maybe Nude by Bill Blass?) and a bit like body products of yesterday.

In a way See By Chloé stands in media res in the Chloé narrative, as it is bookended by the silky powderiness of Love, Chloé (which I had pegged as a supreme parfum lingerie) and the scratchy soapiness of the re-issued Chloé by Chloé perfume.
If I were to bring a musical analogy, I'd say that while we associate most "playful, upbeat scents" with a C-sharp major key, this one plays definitely on a  D-flat major like a harp playing scales into infinity.

Essentially a linear perfume, equal parts feminine as masculine, with a fuzzy warmth which projects at a considerable radius, and a pronounced longevity especially when sprayed on fabric, See By Chloé strikes me as inoffensive and innocuous, probably aimed at a younger audience with no intricate expectations beyond the "you smell good" quip, and yet I can't bring myself to say it's worthless. It's slowly growing on me and though I realize that I have hundreds of bottles more interesting than this, if I were offered a small bottle of the eau de parfum I might find myself wearing it while solving the Sunday paper crosswords. (Though if I'm to take any clue from Bette Franke depicted in panties and a leather bomber jacket -and nothing else- in the ads I'm clearly wasting my Sunday mornings on said crosswords...)

The flacon is inspired by vintage bird cages, rather lovely to hold and with a nostalgic typeface. Model Bette Franke is the face of the advertising campaign. See By Chloe is available in 30, 50 and 75 ml of Eau de Parfum at major department stores.
More on the See by Chloe site.

Chloe L'Eau de Chloe: fragrance review

Cast your eye back to the days when you were a kid in a floral print sundress, pig-tails hanging down the sides of your face, flowers pinned carefully on the hair by an older sister or attentive mother, and selling lemonade off a kiosk outside your school or terraced porch to amass money for summer camp (or something along those lines). I hear this gets done a lot in America. I can only tell you that I hadn't had any of those experiences, but lemonade drinking I did as a kid. A lot. It was the official drink of summer (along with sour cherry juice which is just as delicious, if not more) and gulping it down, all thirsty after a run in the fields cutting off wild roses & poppies or a swim in the sea, was one of the major joys of careless late spring and summer days. Perhaps there's something of that ~childhood-reminiscent, innocent and eager about it all~ that is so very refreshing and uplifting when we encounter a citrusy smell. Perhaps that's also why perfume companies are sure to bring forth a slew of citrusy colognes and fragrances into the market with the regularity of a Swiss clock, each spring as soon as the caterpillars turn into butterflies. There's just something optimistic, open and joyous about them, isn't there. Which is where L’Eau de Chloé comes in; from its frozen lemonade top note into its rosewater heart and down to its cooling, mossy base, it's an improvement on the previous Chloe edition* and a scent which instantly puts a smile on my face, even if it doesn't really mesh with my style, having no dark nor serious intentions.

Nikiforos Lytras, The Kiss

The recent "madness" for Eaux
Perfumer Michel Almairac was commissioned with a citrusy built on "clean" rose with a dewy character. Eaux are big as a variant in existing fragrance lines lately, rather than just a rehash of the citrus-herbal Eau de Cologne recipe, with predictably good results; especially at Dior (who had it all with their classic Eau Fraîche) with their Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau and J'Adore L'Eau Florale. Other contestants in this revamped "eau" game include Chanel Cristalle Eau Verte, Chanel Chance Eau Tendre and Chance Eau Fraîche, the three Ô de Lancôme, Eau de Shalimar by Guerlain (a different attitude as this is a complex citrusy oriental rather than just a citrusy, fresh, uncomplicated splash on), Hermes Eau de Gentiane Blanche and Eau de Pamplemousse Rose, even Serge Lutens with his L'Eau Froide and the previous L'Eau de Serge Lutens. It's a good alternative for warm weather wearing when you live in a hot climate.

Perfume impressions and formula structuring
Almairac used the transparent, luminous and at the same time lightly sweet and delectable natural note of rosewater (a distillate from rose petals) in L’Eau de Chloé to counterpoint and at the same time accent, via the common elements, the tart lemonade opening and the lemony magnolia blossom in the core. What was less easy to accomplish was how to stabilize it into a formula that would retain structure. The perfumer opted thus for a mossy-musky base accord which simmers with the angular, lightly bitter beauty of chypre via patchouli and woody ambers (ambrox). The fragrance belongs in the genre of Versace Versence or a modernised/watered down Coriandre by Jean Couturier.
The effect is that of a fizzy, sparkling, tingling the nose grapefruit and citron opening, vivid, spicy and refreshing at the same time with the gusto of carbonated fizz drinks bursting on your face which is prolonged into the proceedings. The peppery, crisp freshness evolves into the bold rosy heart of L’Eau de Chloé, balanced between powdery-minty and retro; non obtrusive for casual day wear, but with enough presence to uphold itself throughout a romantic afternoon. It's because of this that the fragrance projects more as a feminine than a citrusy unisex, which might create its own little problems (i.e. usually unisex citruses are the best). The mossy, patchouli-trailing with a warm, inviting "clean musk" vibe about it is discreet and rather short-lived (as is natural for the genre) and I would definitely prefer it to be darker and more sinister, but the fragrance overall serves as a reminder that small miracles are what we're  thankful for these days.

Advertising images
L’Eau de Chloé utilizes the familiar girl in a field of grass imagery in its advertising, first used by Balmain's classic Vent Vert (which did have something very meadow-like about it!) and perpetuated into recent releases; I'm reminding of Daisy Eau So Fresh by Marc Jacobs for instance. The young sprite is mythologically loaded, reminiscent of nubile teenagers in Greek classical myth deflowered by philandering gods, and it remains a feminist concern thanks to its sheer helplessness (who will hear your cries in the distance?). But perhaps we're injecting too much into it. Perhaps just rolling on a field on a warm, sunny day is a joy into itself and in this land of perfume fantasy all the big bad wolves are programmatically kept at bay or exitinguished with a squirt of a well chosen perfume sprayer. It's a thought...

Notes for L'Eau de Chloé: lemon, peach, violet, natural rosewater, patchouli, cedar.
Available from major department stores.

*NB: I'm hereby referring to the screechy laundry-detergent like Chloé Eau de Parfum by Chloé (2008) and not the excellent, violet-tinged nostalgic powdery fragrance Love, Chloé.

Model: Camille Rowe-Pourcheresse. Shot by Mario Sorenti, Music: Lissy Trullie / Ready for the floor.
More at www.chloe.com/eau

Painting by Greek painter Nikiforos Lytras, The Kiss.

Burberry Body: fragrance review

A shame the appearence is betraying a fragrance so much. The gorgeous electric-car charger looking bottle (or a crystal baton, if you prefer) encased in a leather pouch in beige tones is far sleeker and classier than the soapy, synthetic and rather dull floral musk hiding inside the container. The name and commercial hinted at some tryst conducted in the aftermath of a spring shower that necessitated the wearing of a Burberry trenchcoat. The fragrance however is akin to sprikling yourself in sudsy water rather than bodily fluids...

Burberry Body is rather potent, warm and woody, taking in mind the constraints of both the soapy and musky floral genre (which usually tend to lean towards coolish), but doesn't really ever become a true "skin scent" in the sense of mimicking anyone's warm, living skin -or the scent equivalent of invoking the aftermath of intimate action between lovers. It's death by a hundred little guest soaps with rosy wrapping!The chunk of Cashmeran in the base doesn't aid much.

Nor is the composition a gorgeous true floral musk the way Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her and its many different fragrance versions are or Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker. The effect in Body remains at all times a bit aloof, without much of the promised absinthe or the powderiness of iris compositions, the soap a little detached from the nooks and cranes it's supposed to lather up to. The sudsy floral part of Penhaligon's Castile is there, but whereas in Castile this aided the radiance of what is essentially a programmatically "clean" fragrance with lots of orange blossom, in Burberry Body we have a similar phenomenon as in the newer version of Chloé; the aliphatic aldehydes project sharp, loud and fatty, laundry-detergent reminiscent, with a hint of lactonic peach and vanilla under the rosiness, and tend to remind you of a chemical soup rather than the ouverture to some floral symphony of yore. Furthermore Body is absolutely linear and guaranteed not to offend anyone; usually that's a seal of lack of character.

I realise that "clean" and "shower fresh" are loaded and important terms in fragrance marketing, that one has to pick an unobtrusive scent for the office at times and there is a huge segment of the population who is after the perfect "just out of the shower" fragrance anyway, but I'm afraid that this is not it; their worthy goal is better served elsewhere. [Explore our Soapy Fragrances and Musky Fragrances articles linked, if you like].

Notes for Burberry Body: absinthe, peach, freesia, rose absolute, iris, sandalwood, woody cashmeran, musk, vanilla, amber.

Photo: Andrian Wilson, I need you more than you need me. 

Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum: fragrance review

"On these days he rose early, set off at a gallop, urging on his horse, then got down to wipe his boots in the grass and put on black gloves before entering. He liked going into the courtyard, and noticing the gate turn against his shoulder, the cock crow on the wall, the lads run to meet him. He liked the granary and the stables; he liked old Rouault, who pressed his hand and called him his saviour; he liked the small wooden shoes of Mademoiselle Emma on the scoured flags of the kitchen--her high heels made her a little taller; and when she walked in front of him, the wooden soles springing up quickly struck with a sharp sound against the leather of her boots." ~Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary, ch.II

If, like me, you've ever swooned over the austerely sensuous implications of leather in all its forms: from the tight-fitting driving gloves of an enigmatic heist wheelman (on they go like part of a superhero's suit), to the posh interiors of a Bentley, all through the fetishistically-fitted dresses that populated Helmut Newton's wet dreams......
If you've admired Florentine artisan handbags, fondly remembering your hand caressing the supple leather surface and the feeling of understated luxury and elegance they exude...
If you yearn for the sweetly pungent and at the same time totally "fabricated" smell of a good, old-school leather fragrance...
...then the fragrance release introduced by the Bottega Veneta brand (the apex of leather luxury) is set to stir your heart with unbridled longing. And deservedly so: Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum is unquestionably among the finest releases of 2011.

The scent
Bottega Veneta follows into glorious lineage: it unites elements of both posh-smelling floral leathers of yore (Chanel Cuir de Russie, Grès Cabochard), fusing the narcotic sex of jasmine with the plush of leather, and some of the plummy-citrusy goodness of legendary fruity chypres (Diorama, Guerlain Parure, Femme by Rochas). In the past, "woody plum" was based on the famous De Laire Prunol base: peach, ionones, aldehydes C-14 and C-18, cumin, cardamom, methyl isobutyl ketone V and patchouli.
But Grasse-born, renowned perfumer Micheal Almariac gave a decidedly modern feel to the Bottega Veneta composition; like a vegetal, herbal sub-segment which opens the perfume for the first 10 minutes, shared with Chanel's 31 Rue Cambon or Dior Homme, quickly meeting the patchouli-vanilla of Gucci Rush alongside a plum-rose-leather accord; if you can fathom the quirky marriage of such diverse elements. If I were to liken the perfume's overall effect to other perfumes though, it would be to Boxeuses by Serge Lutens, or Cuir Améthyste by Armani (on which Almairac also worked).

There are four key notes in Bottega Veneta's Eau de Parfum: jasmine sambac, Brazilian pink peppercorn, bergamot, and Indian patchouli (a not particularly "dirty" but richly mature kind, like the one in Almairac's patchouli opus Voleur de Roses, which grows as time lapses and becomes more comforting). The citrus and leather are recoginisable from the opening spraying, while the fragrance warms increasingly with perceptible candied plum notes fanning the floral heart of jasmine, on a resinous backdrop of caramelic benzoin and dark earthy oak moss. Bottega Veneta gains in patchouli strength (nuttier and sweeter) boosted by the humming leather the longer it stays on.
The scent of Bottega Veneta is by no means a powerhouse, but the sillage and tenacity are undeniably very good (even though you might not notice it all the time!) floating over your skin in a delicious murmur and spontaneously eliciting three unsolicited compliments on the morning I tested it for the first time. I think it opens up like a fine cognac when used with a spray; a dab or a blotter test hides its intimate, skin-like tonalities. Although usually I discourage readers from blind buys, this is one of the rare releases that sounds like a good bet for perfume enthusiasts into leathery chypres and who like the notes listed. Even though it's gloriously feminine, daring men might pull it off without eliciting raised eyebrows.

The perfumer
Fragrance composer Michel Almairac told The Moodie Report, “I was asked to create a fragrance that would mirror the brand, which would convey its feeling and atmosphere. That image of Bottega Veneta incorporates elements such as a countryside villa, the smell of furniture, food, and vegetation - in short, the whole ambience of Vicenza, where the brand was born. And as this is the very first  Bottega Veneta fragrance, the parameters were broad, and I could give full rein to my imagination.”
Almairac zeroed on chypre: “Chypre is rich, elegant, and timeless, and very helpful in terms of conveying the abstract floral affect that Tomas wanted me to convey, in addition to the subtle leather tones” and married it to the leather accord of his dreams. 
 “The choice and quality of components is even more important when you have a simple formula such as this,” noted Almairac. “My company, Robertet, is known for using natural products. We treated the four ingredients of this fragrance to enhance or diminish certain qualities. For example, we treated the jasmine to give it a stronger character, but a lighter color.” He succeeded most admirably, hitting upon a soft leather accord which is polished like a fine kid glove and caressing without turning wimpy.

The looks
Fronted by model Nine D’Urso (daughter of Inès de la Fressange and Italian businessman & art dealer Luigi d’Urso) on the beach, the advertising campaign for Bottega Venete Eau de Parfum is dreamy but nicely restrained. Pity those who might think it involves a "marine" type light affair though, as Bottega Veneta is a perfume drenched in ciaroscuro, very specifically full of the warmth of indoors as opposed to outdoors.

The fragrance's bottle harkens back to Murano glass and the traditional Italian carafes. It features a brunito cap and collar, an ebano logo, and a nude leather ribbon clipped with a brunito butterfly, while the underside features Bottega Veneta's famous woven look.

The shopping
Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum is available in 30ml/1oz (65$), 50ml/1.7oz (for $95) and 75ml/2.4oz (for $130), in matching body products (shower gel, body crème and lotion) and as limited edition Extrait de Parfum in Murano (available at Harrods and the Bond Street BV boutique in the UK for £365). The fragrance is currently available in Bergdorf Goodman and Neiman Marcus in the US and Debenhams and House of Fraser in the UK and will launch more widely in November.

Drive film artwork featuring Ryan Gosling via Soraiah Zohdi

Aqua di Parma Gelsomino Nobile: fragrance review & bottle giveaway

First things first: I have a brand new bottle of the to-be-launched Gelsomino Nobile for a lucky reader, from which only a 5ml decant is missing for reviewing purposes. To be eligible, all you have to do is answer to these questions: 1)What do you find pleasurable/helpful in a frag review? 2)What are the subjects on our pages you would like to read more of? Now on to reviewing this upcoming Aqua di Parma fragrance focused on jasmine...

Gelsomino Nobile (Noble Jasmine) by Aqua di Parma belongs to the Le Nobili sub-collection: 3 women’s fragrances, all in eau de parfum concentration, with a secondary Eau de Toilette for Iris Nobile. The “Nobili” are therefore Iris Nobile, Magnolia Nobile, and the new Gelsomino Nobile. Much in tune with its sister scents, Gelsomino Nobile is also an ethereal, refined, greenish rhapsody in melodious Italian, which could be worn by lovers of all things airy and romantic who want to remain chic and effortless at all times.

The scent of Gelsomino Nobile starts on exhilarating citrusy accents with a peppery bite, much like natural bergamot and the more green neroli distillation from the orange blossom (although neither is listed in the notes), soon accompanied by sweeter elements. The vista opens into a grove of fragrant white vines, dewy jasmine (non indolic), a smidge of the greener parts of tuberose (and none of the danger), and what seems like a clean freesia accord. Although freesia accords can project as screechy and sterile sometimes, the rendering here is subdued: One gets the (illusory) waft of a budding flower, rather than the intense pong of profuse aromachemicals. It's elegant, if predictable.
This stage remains poised for the rest of the duration on the skin, gaining polished nuances of clean, skin-compatible, expensive-feeling musks from one angle; a tad more austere green woodiness from another. I had written on Magnolia Nobile that "the woody musky base is also echoing in my ears like speakers in the car left on some news-relating channel in a sub-human frequency that can be felt more than heard" and I can sense the continuation here as well. Lovers of the Nobili line by Aqua di Parma should be pleased. It's not exactly my speed, but then you know I'm a die-hard indolic jasmine lover, don't you.
The overall effect is recognisably a jasmine fragrance without, at the same time, appearing as suffocating floral or intensely projecting even though Gelsomino Nobile possesses both good lasting power and pleasurable sillage. For that reason jasminophobes or those who do not want to offend may have just found their perfect green floral for all occasions where intermingling might make a more voluptuous, more combustible white floral a bit de trop.

According to the ad copy, as announced on Perfume Shrine a while ago: "Centered around an exclusive and highly unique species of Jasmine grown only in the Calabria region of Italy, this new Floral Green-Musk style of eau de parfum creates the sensation of walking through lush Italian gardens, in bloom with Jasmine, while the breeze brings in the soft, salty air from the Mediterranean.

Notes for Aqua di Parma Gelsomino Nobile: mandarin, pink pepper, orange blossom, tuberose, Calabrian jasmine, cedar wood, and musk.

The fragrance has just debuted at Neiman Marcus and will be available worlwide in September. Available in Eau de Parfum 50ml ($108) and 100ml ($170) ml and matching body cream ($80 for 150 g).

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Jasmine Series

Painting: Eugene de Blaas, Young Italian Beauty

In the interests of full disclosure, the perfume was sampled through a promotion.

L'Artisan Parfumeur Voleur de Roses: fragrance review

In Oscar Wilde's tale "The Nightingale and the Rose", drawing upon an ancient Sufi tradition, roses are dark red like blood, bearing the price of sacrifice for the sake of beauty and love. In L'Artisan Parfumeur Voleur de Roses we witness the dark, earthier aspects of a nightime rose garden which blossoms, dense with foliage, only when true love manifests itself and a nightingale sings ever so sweetly as its pierces its heart upon the thorns.

Even though men are not known for typically wearing roses in the Western world, in Arabian countries they embrace those dark, almost gothic roses flanked by pungent woody notes like oud and patchouli. For those men and women with an adventurous heart, L'Artisan Parfumeur created almost two decades ago one of the most characteristic combination of those two polarising essences: the brutal yet tender collision of rose and patchouli.

Voleur de Roses (Roses' Thief) is like the granpa of niche patchoulis on the market, as it came out as early as 1993, composed by perfumer Michel Almairac (well known for his work on Chopard Casmir, Gucci Rush, several Bond no.9 scents such as Fire Island and The Scent of Peace, the new Chloe and the re-orchestration of Zen into a springly fruity floral). Subsequently all brands jumped onto the bandwagon of patchouli revival (it had been a dormant note since its heyday in the 1960s) and now it has not only swept the market as a protagonist in the new "pink chypres" (faux woody florals that substitute the base of moss with patchouli and vetiver) but also the much maligned -but deservedly most of the time- "fruitchoulis". Imagine a current bestseller, Chanel's Coco Mademoiselle, without the accord of the soiled petals gathered off the ground which made it so contemporary and attractive to young women: it would have been impossible without a forebearer providing the skeleton of the idea, such as Voleur de Roses. Patchouli and rose is nothing new, as the dark, deep and sweet earthiness of the former seems to make the essence of the latter smell like petals unfurling into infinity. All perfumers know that. But in the L'Artisan scent this notion was put front and center, united in an accord which projects with both strength and sensuality. The rose is not sour and it feels natural, not like a photorealistic rose on the stem, but rather true to the rich liqueur-like essence; boozy and contrasting warmth with coolness.

Although built upon two distinct and contrasting elements, the structure of Voleur de Roses is a powerful synergy of these antithetical forces, uniting into a stentorian voice which denies rose of all its archetypal attributes: romanticism, femininity, delicate elegance, softness. Instead this fragrance is like the torrent that ripped rose bushes off their petals and leaves (hence Voleur!) and left the premises like a patchouli-wheeled tractor ran through them repeatedly. If you do not like patchouli as a note (and if you're a reader who didn't live under a rock for the past 15 years you'd recognise it from overexposure in many contemporary fragrances) you're advised to back slowly away and never look back or you'll turn to salt like Lot's wife. This is a direct, over patchouli scent which gains in that odd camphoraceousness that patchouli soli-scents exhibit as time passes ~Borneo 1834 or Prada Intense are good examples of that sort of thing. It figures that L'Artisan featured a stand-alone Patchouli (later substituted by Patchouli Patch) on their catalogue previously: it's the stuff that niche fragraces capitalised on; focus on the raw materials themselves, far away references, emphasizing different facets of the essences.
Voleur de Roses is a fusion of two essential elements that comprise over 3/4 of total number of fragrances in both feminine and masculine perfumery, from floral chypres and masculine woodies via floral woodies and from Chanel through Guerlain. But the formula in this L'Artisan is also a careful framing (rather than ornamentation) of that skeleton with fruity accents (hints of strawberry, a whiff of plum) and a slightly musky-salty note. The composition is linear and a love-it-or-hate-it opus, one clear message in a perfectly coherent chord reverbarated into eternity into a hollow stone-built church. I personally like it very much indeed...but then I am a devotee of the sweet earthiness of aged patchouli that is reminiscent of burying one's hands in wet black soil...



Those who find they'd like the idea of rose and earthy notes/patchouli combined should also try Agent Provocateur's original scent in the pink "egg", Une Rose by F.Malle, Parfums de Rosine Une Folie de Rose (a lighter and easier interpretation) as well as Rose d'Homme by the same company (a decidedly masculine take on the idea), and also the more chypre-leaning Rose de Nuit by Serge Lutens.

Notes for L'Artisan Voleur de Roses:
bergamot, rose, plum, patchouli

Perfectly unisex, although originally marketed as masculine (at least going by what the older bottles read on the top of the cardboard box), Voleur de Roses is available online at L'Artisan and at boutiques specializing in L'Artisan scents.

illustration by Charles Robinson for the Oscar Wilde fairy tale