

Les Beaux Draps de Jeannine Cros, Paris
11, rue d'Assas 75006 Paris
Tue. - Sat.11.00 AM - 13.30 PM14.30 PM - 19.00 PM
Closed on Monday ~Vacation 2009: August



This is how Frédéric Malle is introduced in an article on The Australian, on which he explains the concept of the smell booths that are installed in his boutiques (please see our Paris shopping Memoirs part 2 for more information). The story originally appeared in the July 2009 issue of Wish magazine. (a free insert inside metro editions of The Australian on the first Friday of each month).
Perfume Shrine worships at the altar of the Amouage brand and we have already reviewed Jubilation 25 and Ubar on these links. Christopher Chong, creative director of Amouage, presents the two new fragrances of the Omani uber-luxurious brand, Epic for Women and Epic for Men. With a fusion coming directly out of the Silk Route, the fabled course from China to the West through Arabia, the two new fragrances incorporate traditional Middle-Eastern notes of oud and frankincense, as well as tea and Chinese flowers representative of the Far East.
Perfumes only rarely reproduce that otherworldy effect, a hubrid of aberrant chill and aching beauty: There is Messe de Minuit by Etro (more of which later) and there is Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens. Two otherwordly vampires of piercing eyes which draw blood inveigling us into submitting willingly to their almost sacral fangs. The olfactory embodiment of Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, there is a thread between Eros and Thanatos in the dangerous alliance which this fragrance proposes, spun in purple and acid-green phosphorus.
Although Christopher Sheldrake, the perfumer working alongside maestro Serge Lutens, has taken the floral path as the itenerary for his composition, the finished effect reminds me of the subtler bouquet of a Riesling wine with its goût petrol more than a vase of flowers; its effarvescent effect augmenting when the first taste has dissipated from the palate. After the initial phase soft indefiniable flowers emerge, not with the piercingly sweet nature of floral fragrances, but with the creaminess of some white blooms, buttery and silky, lightly reminiscent of kid's glue, folded in a polished musky-sweet base with the merest fruity tonalities; a sensual, whispered drydown that is most unexpected after the initial blast and effortlessly androgynous in character. Like Marlen Dietrich’s name according to Jean Cocteau, but in reverse, Tubéreuse Criminelle starts with a whip stroke, ends with a caress. For sadomasochists and people appreciative of The Agony and The Ecstasy. A masterpiece!!