The Spy who Came In from the Cold ~Rive Gauche by Saint Laurent: fragrance review

“What KGB agents would have worn to seduce James Bond”* is not a bad description for any fragrance. But when it applies to an Yves Saint Laurent one you know it has the pedigree and the icy demeanor of Daniela Bianchi in From Russia with Love. Ian Flemming was no shrinking violet when it came to assigning fragrances to his literary heroines, starting with Vent Vert{1} and Guerlain’s Ode{2} and progressing to Chanel No.5{3} and Caron’s Muguet{4}. It would be intriguing to imagine Rive Gauche among the arsenal of his femmes exceptionelles!

Rive Gauche came out in 1971, aimed as the griffe of Laurent’s ready-to-wear line by the same name, meaning “left bank”. Left of the Seine of course, the place of abode for young bohemians and artists at the time. Created by Jacques Polge when his Chanel in-house position was perhaps but a distant dream (Henri Robert was composing the fragrances of Chanel at the time, specifically No.19) Rive Gauche was directly influenced by the ground-breaking Calandre (1969) by Paco Rabanne (which took its name from a car’s radiator grill in French breaking ties with romantic traditions). Like its predecessor it was a modern take on aldehydic fragrances. Contrary to the take-off note of aldehydes in Chanel No.22, where they shine with all the might of a soprano coloratura to extreme sweetness, in Rive Gauche, as well as in Calandre, the aldehydic hit upon spraying is snowy-cold, drier and with all the paradox of the Brave New World ahead: the two fragrances share a metallic rose of frosty petals that tingles the nose rendering that most romantic of blossoms into a hologram of a flower, underscored with the touch of green powder in the form of cool iris and vetiver, the enigma of the spy who came in from the cold.

Aimed at the young, Rive Gauche projected the audacious profile of a chic woman always dressed in electric blue like the silver-banded canister itself. One who flirts freely with a touch of bravado. Yet the fragrance now seems a little caught in the whirlwind of its era although its appeal never fades: it smells classy, not raunchy; mysteriously blue floral, yet non romantic English bone-china-pattern-style ~it’s flinty! And its amazingly salient characteristic is smelling fabulous on just about anyone: any difference of opinion is accountable down to perception and personal taste.

Rive Gauche for Women was savagely altered in a reformulation during the Tom Ford tenure as artistic director of Yves Saint Laurent, with some difference in packaging. A men’s version was introduced in 2003 (in my opinion redundant as the feminine could be worn by a man of confidence), a “formule Intense” which reportedly is closer to the original and thus worth testing if you have fond memories of the latter. The 2004 Rive Gauche Light for women is but a pale shadow of itself, while the non-alcoholic Rive Gauche Fraîcheur from 1995 is a hazy watercolor interpretation that I am sad to report is terribly fleeting.

Notes:Aldehydes, leaf note, galbanum, gardenia, narcissus, jasmine, rose, orris, honeysuckle, sandalwood, oakmoss, vetiver, tonka bean.

Ref:
*Susan Irvine in "The Perfume Guide".
{1: in Live and Let Die, Goldfinger}
{2: in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service}
{3: in The Man with the Golden Gun}
{4: in Goldfinger}

Pic of Bjork by Jean Baptiste Mondino courtesy of MondinoUpdate.net. Pic of Rive Gauche ad courtesy of parfumdepub.

Stunning commercial for Y, by Yves Saint Laurent

Serendipity works in mysterious ways and often in reverse.
I found this amazing and rarely seen clip from at least two years ago, as part of a longer film about Tom Ford (?), for Y by Yves Saint Laurent, while searching for something else. It features model Elise Crombez (credit goes to cyrilguyot.com).
Please enjoy!

Clip uploaded by sweetrus on Youtube.

Who's the Chypriest of Them All? ~Y by Saint Laurent: fragrance review

I can recall down to the minute when I became entangled into Yves Saint Laurent’s vision. It was even before I saw his amazing couture on Betty Catroux and Talitha Getty in the photos of the glossy magazines that my mother used to buy and cut out clippings of when she deemed beautiful; and before I leafed through my father’s art-books with the colorful, geometrical Mondrian and trapezoid Braque paintings.

Specifically the trigger had been an olfactory one: stepping into a taxi out of which a woman wearing Opium had just left. My puerile ears had the good fortune of catching the driver’s phrase “My God, this Opium scent is everywhere and it’s so strong!” My mother nodded her beautiful head in silent demi-assent as she always did when she was too polite to disagree or further an argument. Myself I was not yet capable of discerning nuances of speech so as to differentiate a positive from a negative one. I only seem to recall that that was the most exquisite scent I had ever smelled, I was straining to absorb every single molecule I could attach to my nostrils’ Velcro and I was already seriously longing for it as soon as I stepped out of that taxi. I can’t really recall where we were going, whether our purpose was a practical or social one or what we were wearing or how the driver looked like. My memory obliterated all those things, choosing to cherish only the precious memento of first smelling Opium off the sillage of a complete stranger. Such is the power of fragrance!
It haunted me for years and as soon as I had pocket money or could request gifts of beauty I knew what my little heart desired: the forbidden elixir encased in the cinnabar bottle with the black tassel. Other perfumes came and went and I amassed whatever I could lay my hands on, but Yves Saint Laurent became my first fashion icon through Opium.

Blossoming into a woman I personally discovered other creations of his, which brightened my life with their beauty and style. One of them was Y, his first fragrance for women. Named after his initial, I imagine it also allied to the French pronoun for “there”, since it is definitely very much there: it imposed its presence with elegance and the endurance of a true classic.
Y was issued in 1964 (2 years after Yves's first YSL collection) and was composed by nose Jean Amic in a beautiful, solid, architectural bottle designed by Pierre Dinard.

Exactly two years before Yves was rocking the catwalks with the Norman Smock, a garment debuting more than 1,000 years ago but serving as an inspiration for YSL peasant-looking shirts, Russian tunics, Chinese coats, boho artist's jacket, or even the jacket of a gabardine pantsuit over the years: Yves was already doing what he considered style ~the reference that provides a solidarity to one’s wardrobe away from the dictations of currency. Clothes should be made to last and speak through the years.
Much like his fluid fashions of 1964, with languorous gowns, gracious pantsuits and flowing tunics that draped curves rather than suppressed them, Y the fragrance became the emblem of la maison Laurent: flamboyant if you look at the prism from an angle that the sun catches it producing a vivid rainbow on the wall, restrained if you look at it from an angle where it shines with the natural incandescence of clear crystal.

In many ways Y was a departure from the prim and tasteful aldehydic fragrances of the times such as Le Dix or Madame Rochas, proposing a greener, more subversive, emancipated chypre that would herald the onset of the powerful chypres of the 70s. And yet it did so with elegance, without the shock value of Bandit or the intensity of Aromatics Elixir, yet without betraying the bedrock of the genre’s character. “Which is the chypriest of them all?” And possibly the chirpiest…
Y took the powdery aldehydic notes of previous beauties and gave them a retouch of bluish grey dense brushstrokes of shadow-y depth that mollify the sparkling honeysuckle and the heady hyacinth heart into something that approximates Marc Franz paintings: the striking and angular happily coexist with the curvaceous. Above all, Y highlights oakmoss in perhaps the last composition –up to the time of writing- to retain some semblance of fidelity to the rotting frisée of the parasitic lichen that laces itself upon the mighty oak. Its animalic but classy echo is heard through the urban forests to the pursuit of discerning suitors.
If you have loved Ma Griffe for its spicy emerald song, Chanel No.19 for its audacious herbal iris, the vintage Miss Dior for its naughty seduction under wraps and 31 Rue Cambon as a bastard descendant of the greats who pays a visit when the need strikes and you haven’t tested Y by Yves Saint Laurent yet, serious amiss should be amended before it is utterly ruined.

Notes:
Top: aldehydes, peach, gardenia, mirabelle and honey suckle.
Middle: Bulgarian rose, jasmine, tuberose, ylang ylang, orris and hyacinth.
Base: oak moss, amber, patchouli, sandalwood, vetiver, civet, benzoin and styrax.

Y by Yves Saint Laurent is easily available at department stores and online.

Update on reformulation: the newest Eau de toilette bottles have a gold cap and the Y straight up and down versus a white cap and an italicised Y for the older ones. The name on the bottom of the bottle is Sanofi Beaute for the older ones, the group that YSL Parfums joined in 1993. Sanofi Beaute however was acquired by Gucci Group in 1999 and Yves Saint Laurent has been recently acquired by L'oreal, heralding further tampering with the formula.

Pics provided by "Armanis", posted in fond admiration

Goodbye Yves...

Shed a tear for a 20th century legend: Yves Saint Laurent, the saint of fashion is no longer with us... According to Reuters,

French fashion king Yves Saint Laurent has died at the age of 71 [...] [his] death on Sunday was announced without any details of the cause, [but he] was plagued by health problems. "(Coco) Chanel gave women freedom. Yves Saint Laurent gave them power," Saint Laurent's long-time friend and business partner Pierre Berge told France Info radio."(But) he was someone who was very shy and introverted, who had only very few friends and hid himself from the world."

At 17 pied noir Yves entered a Paris fashion school, and his sketch for a cocktail dress won first prize in an annual contest. Introduced to Christian Dior, Saint Laurent was hired on the spot as his chief assistant, so impressed was Dior. On Dior's death in 1957, Saint Laurent took over as chief designer at the tender age of 21.
He then opened his own house in 1962 to roaring success, introducing Le Smoking for women, the Trapeze collection, the dresses inspired by Mondrian, the Safari... In 1983, he became the first living fashion designer to be honored by the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
In 1992, YSL was absorbed by cosmetics and drugs company Sanofi, while Saint Laurent retained creative control. Then in 1999 the brand was bought by the Gucci group, itself controlled by French luxury giant PPR while Yves formally retired in 2002. In 2001, he was awarded the rank of Commander of the Légion d'Honneur by French president Jacques Chirac.
His motto "We must never confuse elegance with snobbery" resonates with true style.


Yves has been a fashion and design icon for me ever since I came to see his beautiful designs and smell his legendary Opium, which has been my ally and companion ever since I remember myself, and PerfumeShrine will dedicate a small tribute to Yves in the coming days as a small token of admiration and gratitude. Personally I propose canonisation as well...Please take a look at this excellent site: the YSL Foundation founded by him with Pierre Bergé and this article by the New York Times.

Pic of young Yves courtesy of Getty images. Pic of this beautiful YSL couture gown sent to me by mail by arch-admirer of YSL "Armanis" (M) with fond gratitute for knowledge and taste in matters of fashion.

Bronze Goddess vs. Azuree Soleil

Summer is officially here and thoughts almost atavistically veer towards the beach: the expanse of white sand resembling minuscule crystals of sugar, whiffs of fresh ocean spray brought by the gentle, cool breeze and bodies sprawled on straw mats anointing themselves with the most exquisite fragrant potions: things that have a primitive call in them perhaps. If this is the ideal utopia you have been dreaming of, there is a fragrance to accompany it well enough and it is easily had at your local department store for a change.

It's Bronze Goddess, the Estée Lauder scent that substituted the much loved limited edition Azurée Soleil ~the latter art-directed by Tom Ford and then discontinued because the contract with Tom Ford had expired. In true business savvy mode Lauder didn't let an uber-successful formula languish, but giving it a new dress in the form of bronze packaging, a new name in the manner worthy of a mythological genesis and an imperceptible twist in the list of notes, salvaged it for the legions of fans who demanded more, more, more! And a makeup line followed, predictably.

Regular readers of Perfume Shrine might be raising an eyebrow by now, wondering what possessed me to review a scent that is not the typical fare for us and so late after it officially launched too. But I came across a tester at Sephora and I cannot deny that unlike other scents which evoke the atmosphere of the beach in sugared tones of tropical fruits such as mango and coconut or going the ubiquitous way of armfuls -strike that out: read chokefuls- of tiare (tahitian gardenia), Bronze Goddess is quite subtle, dries down soft and inviting and never veers into the too sweet; a major accomplishment in view of it containing the usual suspects.

But notes rarely say the whole story: Bronze Goddess really is a good skin-scent, what perfumephiles call a fragrance that evokes the smell of skin, not perfume. Truthfully, I do wish actual sunscreens came in such delightful fragrances, much like the legendary classic Chaldée by Jean Patou with its candied orange blossom note, which was initially conceived as a tanning oil and aromatized sun products for a whole generation of people in the 1930s.

The question is how Bronze Goddess and Azurée Soleil compare: if having one already justifies getting both or if one has dearly loved but can't replenish the older one, should they get the new one instead. The answer is they are so remarkably close that only if one is persnickety and extremely tuned into the slightest of differences should they worry about this matter. Azurée Soleil is a little sparser, simpler, highlighting a "clean" vetiver accord over white flowers that stays poised for a long time. Bronze Goddess goes through the motions with a slightly more refreshing citrusy start that fans out into soft woody notes before kissing skin with a floral, milky touch of tropical gardenia, a bit of coconut and white flowers ending on a whiff of caramel redolent of tonka beans and skin baked in the sun. Both have a slightly spicy tone like nutmeg that is not referenced in the notes, yet contributes to the warm body and sun dunes evocation.

Of course the definitive beach scent is an elusive thing and the most unique fragrance I have smelled which manages to catch almost every aspect of the experience is an indie, natural perfume called Fairchild, but it's not what most people would easily find. Still, if you do have the chance it's highly sample-worthy. Two more which capture the beach well are Aqua Motu by Comptoir Sud Pacifique and Rem by Reminiscence. For a similar "skin baked by the sun" accord, I highly recommend L by Lolita Lempicka, already reviewed here, as well as Aquasun by Lancaster which will be featured on Perfume Shrine shortly.

Estee Lauder Bronze Goddess is available at department stores in 100 ml Eau Fraiche Skinscent, 100 ml Body Oil and 200 ml Luminous/Shimmer Body Lotion and the official Lauder site says it's a Limited Edition. Azurée Soleil is found easily via Ebay.

Notes for Bronze Goddess: Sicilian bergamot,mandarin, lemon, tiare milk, orange flower buds, jasmine, creamy magnolia petals, lavender, myrrh, amber, sandalwood, vetiver, caramel and coconut cream.
Notes for Azurée Soleil: tiare (tahitian gardenia), orange blossom, jasmine, magnolia petals, myrrh, bergamot, mandarin, amber, sandalwood, vetiver, caramel and coconut cream.

*{For reasons of clarity, please note that I am NOT refering to the old, classic Lauder fragrance named Azurée (1969) which is a leathery chypre}.
Pic of Bronze Goddess courtesy of Lauder, of Azuree Soleil of Ebay, of Halle Berry of Yahoo movies.