Chanel No.5 L'Eau: fragrance review & marketing insights

 Chanel No.5 L'Eau, endorsed by the debutantes of the Chinese press, has been hailed as an innovation, but it's really "new old school". And I'm stating this in a positive light. It's a very likeable fragrance by Chanel which retains the spirit of the classic with a very contemporary sensibility of new beginnings and a freshness that differs from the exigencies of the 1920s, a century later. But its composition is not innovative, rather it makes abstract and elegant (in the mathematical sense) what has been passed down from tradition, in order to appear new. 

To wit, the use of aldehyde C8 is an addition that is not particularly modernist, nor is Australian sandalwood or the fractional-distillation ylang ylang that Polge père (Jacques) and Polge fils (Olivier) have been surely contemplating using for a couple of years now. The balancing act of the fragrance lies in judging how the citrusy freshness extends and rejuvenates the rose in the heart. And how an aldehydic fragrance appears non stuffed, nor "old lady perfume" (explained).

The core of No.5 L'Eau is shifted from the densely ylang and perceptible musk chord that dominates the modern varietals of No.5 to the delicate, wisp-like chord of citrus and rose. Almost a skin scent. By definition the concentration is light, ethereal, reflected in the choice of Lily-Rose Depp as the face of the ads. But why an ethereal version with a youth as the face?

It all started in the 80s when then in-house perfumer, the erstwhile Jacques Polge, created the first real "tampering" of the authentic formula to bring it up to par with the powerhouses of the decade of excess. When you have to keep your footing in the market that saw the original typhoon of Dior's Poison and the lead density of detonator of amber waves that was the original Obsession by Calvin Klein, you have to have a classy and elegant formula boosted to its logical limit. Ergo No.5 received a generous helping dose of the sandalwood synthetic Polysantol which effectuated that smooth, lactic boost that was missing from the earlier versions. No.5 Eau de Parfum is possibly not the "truest" No.5 but it is a satisfying edition that is made with great care.

Chanel continued to keep a very tight, and careful, modus operandi on any and all subsequent editions of No.5. I distinctly and fondly recall the No.5 Elixir Sensuelle which boosted the soapier smelling and muskier elements to render a less faithful but still sexy-as-hell body gel. It encapsulated what Coco Chanel herself had meant for No.5 to symbolize: a clean woman that wasn't at odds with her natural scent. The idea that women could be both sexy and not dirty. After all, her inspiration was a famous cocotte friend who smelled "clean", contrary to society women of the times "who smelled dirty" according to the French designer herself. 

The logical extension could only be manifested in something like Chanel No.5 Eau Première. Indeed praised by almost everyone in the industry for adhering to the original concept, without deviating too much, and at the same time bringing forth a new sensibility, Eau Première was critically praised by critics and bloggers, as well as connoisseur wearers only to be daunted at the fragrance counter by a relative indifference in its modern message. Eau Première, fabulous though it was, couldn't address the needs and wants of a youthful audience who knew No.5 from its legendary course and urban fashion clout, but did not feel confident in pulling it off in real time.

Unlike many, maybe even most, flankers by Chanel, such as Coco Mademoiselle and Coco Noir (extending and renewing the fragrance concept of Coco Eau de Parfum), which had little relation to their predecessor, No.5  l'Eau inherited enough of the original's nucleus to serve as a valid reimagining on the original idea.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine:

Coco by Chanel: fragrance review

Chanel No.19 & Heure Exquise: Twin Peaks

On Classifying Chanel No.19 & perfume review 

What's the True Story of Chanel No.5?

Cultural history: Exposition Chanel

Chanel No.5 Through the Years

Chanel No.46: fragrance review & history

I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire: Imaginative Fantasies

Chanel Les Exclusifs Misia: fragrance review [And a collective Chanel Les Exclusifs link.]

Australian Sandalwood: The Golden Harvest

Australian Sandalwood is a unique native tree crop, grown for its high value aromatic heartwood, with potential to generative income from the oil rich nuts. Well adapted to wheatbelt conditions, sandalwood plantations can aid in managing agricultural risk through diversification and contribute towards reducing salinity and erosion in wheatbelt farming systems.



clip produced by In Shot Productions Video Production Perth http://www.inshotproductions.com/

Serge Lutens Santal Majuscule: fragrance review & draw

The majestic scent of sandalwood stands as the benevolent Hitopadeśa tales of the Far East, a fan of fantasy woven in didactic morals for princes, much like the precious real fans carved out of the prized wood for cooling off in the intense heat of the Indian peninsula; rich, milky-smelling, with a hint of incense and fresh greenery at times, still retaining their scented glamour as decades go by. The intimate, elegant aura of woody fragrances finds its apogee in sandalwood; perfumes plush and collapsingly soft but with the promise of intelligence. Santal Majuscule by Serge Lutens just comes to reinforce this notion as introduced on these pages a while ago, being the perfect sandalwood starter fragrance for those seeking such a thing, but also a welcome Lutensian offering to make me fall again headfirst into his Alice in Wonderland private cosmos I found myself tangled in ever since he issued the sumptuous La Myrrhe. Lutens however remains Lutens: the orient is ever present, but it is the occident which defines his torturing demons. His new Santal Majuscule is an assured step in his Camino de Perfección, modeled after St.Teresa of Ávila whose Latin motto seals the fate of the fragrance: is it the throes of passion or the throes of divine ecstasy that mark the lines of her face? Where does one end and the other begin? Her devotion of silence is symbolic of the enigmatic nature of the Lutensian opus itself.

 "Pride must be celebrated. Thus the boy, clad in armor and perched on his horse, along with a terrible princess in full mourning dress, pictured himself arriving at the Coronation Mass to the sound of thundering hooves, just at the moment of the transubstantiation, that very moment when the priest holds the host up to the cross, to the one agonizing on it."

"As you know, there are a wide variety of sandalwoods. Mysore is one that has been subjected for some time to a hidden trafficking. I had used it in the mid 90s, during the creation of Santal de Mysore. Santal Blanc is another thing. Regarding Santal Majuscule, this is an Australian sandalwood, high quality, but with this release, I 'sensationalized' it so much that in the end, it is impossible to tell if it comes from India, Australia or elsewhere. What interests me is what I can do with it. Moreover, using sandalwood for itself alone would be a little 'Sandalwood of misery'...."               Serge Lutens quote from  interview bestowed to Elena Vosnaki

It's not hard to see why sandalwood ~despite having another two in the line already (Santal Blanc recently being moved into the Paris exclusives line to couple with the resident Santal de Mysore)~ was picked yet again as the foundation on which Lutens built his church, to paraphrase another religious reference. Sandalwood is the natural product par excellence, nature's agony and ecstasy: a scent so fine, so rich and yet with a fresh top note, so creamy sweet and so enduring, that it has inspired generations of men and women to harvest its precious, sacred trunk in order to imbue products for personal, religious and public use with its fine aroma. Although as explained in my Raw Material Sandalwood article the Mysore variety is rationed for fear of depletion (hence the wealth of synthetic sandalwood substitutes enumerated), the polished silkiness of the Indian variant could be mimicked creatively only by the choicest wizards of perfumery. And who more excellent than the mercurial figure of Serge Lutens to offer us a vista into the orientalia of a "nouveau sandalwood"?

The maestro revealed to me in an interview (replete with his childhood reminiscences of classroom ennui) that Santal Majuscule is technically based on the Australian sandalwood variety (which smells different), but I can attest the perfume ends up smelling like an radiant attar procured somewhere close to King Víkrama's lion-throne, creamy and luminous in its rose-distillate facets, sprinkled with promise of cocoa and soft spices (cinnamon), silky sheen with a hint of orange blossom honey and sweet incense in the background. After all, Lutens managed to inject a delicious effect of sandalwood in his savory gourmand fragrance Jeux de Peau, where the impression is again built on fantasy.
 For Santal Majuscule, perfumer Chris Sheldrake and Lutens weaved the familiar web of woody tonalities which they have composed a thesis and a meta-thesis on, ever since Feminite du Bois (the latter alongside Pierre Bourdon). But whereas their other woody compositions can veer dark and rather brooding (see the patchouli & cocoa fantasy of Borneo) and we know from Iris Silver Mist and Tubereuse Criminelle the master has a taste for the morose and the morbid, here the treatment is smiling; petal-soft, sweetish (but never much) and with an elegance and refined allure that defies preconceived notions. The rose is perceptible, but not "dated", The apricoty tinge gives just the right fruity, almost edible tenderness, an ally to the liqueur-like essence of Damask rose and the creaminess of the woods. But the fragrance is far from his Rahat Loukhoum gourmand quality you can give yourself cavities with, making it pliable enough for people who don't like double helpings of anything.

The composition of Santal Majuscule also defies ~especially upon drying down on the skin~ the familiar, been-there-done-that rose attar model of the Middle East: that traditional "A Thousand and One Nights" melange of rose and sandalwood, as recognizable as Aladdin's cave in the desert. The longer the fragrance stays on skin (and it stays on very long) the more it gains a skin-scent aura of musk and honey, animalic yet elegant, with an addictive character, unisex and inviting; like living, breathing, caressed human skin this close to the throes of (divine?) ecstasy.  As Serge says: "Obey what you smell, feel, love. Do not obey what you're told, and do not believe it too much!"[from same interview to the author]
Given all this, I just can't wait for Une Voix Noire, his next installment in the canon.

Compared to the other two sandalwood fragrances in the Serge Lutens line of perfumes, Santal Majuscule is less sweet than Santal Blanc, less daring and austere than Santal de Mysore. Contrasted with that other golden standard of sandalwood perfumes, Tam Dao by Diptyque, I find myself ensnared by the Lutens, mainly because where Tam Dao used to be true and rich, it now boasts a pronounced pencil-shavings cedarwood note which limits its prior rich versatility.

Santal Majuscule is available in Eau de Parfum "haute concentration" (i.e. the slightly pricer than normal black label line of high concentration) at Les Salons du Palais Royal in Paris and online. Starting September 1st 2012 the new "export" fragrance will be sold worldwide.

A generous decant sprayer of the latest Lutens perfume is available for one lucky reader! Please let me know in the comments what you like or not about Lutens and sandalwood perfumes in general. Draw is open till Friday 27th midnight internationally. Draw is now closed, thanks everyone for participating.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Serge Lutens perfume reviews & news, Sandalwood in Perfumery, Woody Fragrances


pic of statue via thecoincidentaldandy.blogspot.com

Serge Lutens Interview: Regarding Santal Majuscule, the latest perfume

"Why, for what possible reason, still unknown to him, did he raise his eyes every day to stare at the skylight? What was it that attracted his eye to a trembling branch outside? How, through this image in the window pane, did his double take shape and come to life? Why did Mr. Vantienen have to bark out, “Lutens!” and yank him from his reverie?

―Lutens! Stand up!

The Moon could do nothing for him now.

―Why, oh why, all the capital letters, for no reason at all, at the start of, and I quote: Gold, Wolf, Fire, Tower, Flower...and so on!

He was commenting on a piece of writing yesterday, where the pupil, here and there according to his fancy, had added large capital letters, like an illuminated manuscript from the Middle Ages. Silence filled the room. Mr. Vantienen insisted:

―I asked you a question. Now, answer me!
―…

The boy counted the dots...

It is through experience that we—all of us—understand that mirrors reflect a reversed image. What we don’t always understand is that images can shape what we see in the mirror."

click to enlarge

This is just part of the interview that the maestro Serge Lutens has given me concerning his latest fragrant release, Santal Majuscule. In it he explains how the materials do not necessarily denote the character of the fragrance, how the composition finally took flight, his childhood memories and his associating of literature and the fine art of perfuming one's self. Please follow this link to Fragrantica to read the whole thing. 

Perfumery Material: Sandalwood & Synthetic Substitutes

"None but the Mali Mountains contain Sandalwood" is written in an ancient Buddhist scripture. We know this is not the case, but the essence produced by Santalum album (a member of the Santalaceae family) has captured the imagination of man for 4000 years. Sandalwood is the natural product par excellence: a scent so fine, so rich and yet with a fresh top note, so creamy sweet and so enduring that it has inspired generations of men and women to harvest its precious, sacred trunk in order to imbue products for personal and public use with its fine aroma. I vividly remember the sandalwood soaps I received as a gift when an impressionable teenager by a well travelled, older cousin: the creamy, woody, incense-y ambience was irresistible, to the point that a bar was tucked intact in my drawer of small tops to produce a spontaneous "aaah" of rediscovery each time it was pulled out.

Japanese temple incense is most often infused with the aroma of sandalwood in tandem with agarwood. Indian incense often is nothing but. From soap to shaving cream and from essence oil to fine fragrances, sandalwood is one of the most traditional and yet still popular "notes" in all of perfumery.

As I bathe my skin with real Mysore sandalwood soap, stockpiled a while ago as mentioned, I can very well see why: the suds retain a smell that is beautifully nuanced, clean yet rich, midway between masculine and feminine, with a beautiful lingering effect of polished creaminess on silky pyjamas and dressing gowns.

The production of sandalwood essence 

It is a time consuming process and depends on the maturity of the trees, the length of distillation time and the experience of the person distilling. Most time-honoured method of extraction of sandalwood oil has been hydro-distillation, lately phazed out by steam distillation and CO2 extraction (which is more realistic to the raw material of the wood, due to the reduction in heat processing)

The endangerement of natural Indian sandalwood
Especially in the famous Mysore region of Karnataca and of Tamil Nadu where they're protected by state law, even as early as the 1980s, the depletion of the trees due to over-harvesting has had several adverse effects:

1) sandalwood oil is one of the most-often adulterated essential oils; 

2) the cost of sandalwood oil is rising dramatically (about 25% per year); 

3) due to the value of sandalwood oil, the trees are being illegally cut, leading to the waste of this precious resource as trees that are too young are cut, or trees are cut but the roots are left to rot (the roots are the most valuable part of the tree from which to extract the oil). Additionally, this illegal poaching has lead to several murders of forestry officials and other crimes indicative of the black market; 

4) the resource is becoming scarce. The current production of sandalwood trees is not enough to meet the demand of consumers. The trees are difficult to propagate and must grow for at least 30 years to become suitable for harvesting. The forestry departments in India are regulating the amount of material that is cut and sold, but there are many demands for other use of the land – for example, cattle grazing, the need for wood to keep people employed, etc. [1]

This situation has required the gradual substitution of this precious ingredient in fine fragrance with synthetic varieties (gradually and to the rhythm of depletion of any given brand's inventory of raw materials), such as isobornyl cyclohexanol. Some of them are quite costly in themselves and beautiful to smell, as evidenced below, possessing some of the beloved "creamy", milky facets of natural sandalwood. From a technical standpoint the natural consistutents of sandalwood comprise terpenes, terpenols and terpenals, i.e.terpenoid alcohols.

• Sandalwood-Smelling Synthetic Ingredients

Several sandalwood synthetics nowadays comprise part of a perfumer's palette for both their technical merits (they are capsule forms of the effect of an otherwise very dense and demanding essence that is amazingly complex in nature), as well as for their isolated facets that boost one aesthetic choice over others, according to said perfumer's mood. Sometimes they can even co-exist as in the case of Guerlain's Samsara, the beautiful balance of natural and synthetic in one.

Among those synthetic sandalwood notes, Polysantol, a former Firmenich trademark, is quite popular thanks to its intense diffusion and realistic replication. Otherwise known as santol pentenol due to its structure it enters many a fragrance composition imparting herbal and almost tropical nuances with an animalic touch.
Beta santalol or technically (-)-(1'S,2'R,4'R)-(Z)-beta-santalol (interestingly its positive entaniomer is odourless) is also a nature identical typical sandalwood note. It's the reverse case for the enantiomers of alpha Photosantol, the positive being strong and diffusive, the negative weak. Process producing sandalwood organoleptic substances from camphogenic aldehydes produce the prized Firsantol, another Firmenich trademark and a favourite with perfumer and writer Arcadi Boix Camps. Levosandol by Takasago introduces a sharper, more austere cedar note within the creamy sandalwood impression picture. Ebanol [(1S,2'S,3'R)-Ebanol], a Givaudan trademark, on the other hand is noted for its potency. Symrise proposes its Fleursandol which has a very strong, animalic-laced sandalwood note with floral elements surfacing. Other sandalwood substitutes present various unexpected facets, from the very clean with phenolic/guaiac notes on top and cashmeran notes at the finish like some enantiomers of HomoPolysantol to the waxy, leathery of other enantiomers of the same ingredient. The quest for sandalwood substitutes is under way as we speak with several patents from Japanese companies under way and is only going to accelarate in the coming years, despite the illegal poaching in Mysore of immature trees or the import of sandalwood from other regions of the Far East.

A recent addition is a synth blend smelling of sandalwood tagged "HipNote Sandalwood", composed by Tru Fragrance (formerly Romane Fragrances), claimed by the company producing it to be picked by perfumer Harry Fremont of Firmenich no less: “The use of synthetic substitutes within the fragrance world, like those found in "HipNote Sandalwood" and many of the season’s product launches, are essential in assisting in sustainability efforts, helping to ensure the fragrance development process does not destroy natural resources. By using these synthetic blends, we are able to eliminate any allergens that are found in nature and create consistency across different batches of the same fragrance product,” adds Amy Braden, director of product development for Tru Fragrances. The limited edition HipNote Sandalwood is available by request in limited quantities via “Hipnozes by Tru Fragrance” on Facebook, a dynamic, interactive online community which you can visit at www.facebook.com/Hipnozes

 

• Other Sandalwood Varieties of Different Origin

But not all perfumers or all fragrances aim to merely replicate that classic Indian sandalwood scent: In Le Labo's case in Santal 33 for instance they're quite clear on using Australian sandalwood (Santalum spicatum), which is a different variety than Mysore sandalwood (Santalum album): indeed the Australian variety is more pungent, sharper in its dryness, with less density, almost metallic in its fine smokiness, still compatible to scent of skin.

Another sandalwood tree variant sometimes used for its rich essence oil is Amyris balsamifera, or West Indian sandalwood or simply amyris: Though not a true sandalwood, it still bears the nuanced, distinctive smell and is useful in soap production (and increasingly fine fragrance, such as the latest Francis Kurkdjian Amyris duo of fragrances) where the Indian variety would rocket the cost to stratospheric heights.  

Finally the New Caledonian sandalwood variety is yet another species with a scent profile between that of the Australian and the Mysore varieties and it looks like it's going to be supremely popular in the near future.

LIST OF FRAGRANCES WITH PROMINENT SANDALWOOD (in alphabetical order):

01 Nomad by Odin New York

1725 Casanova by Histoires de Parfums

Alain Delon pour Homme

Aramis by Aramis

Arsene Lupin Dandy by Guerlain

Arsene Lupin Voyou by Guerlain

Barbara Bui Le Parfum

Basala by Shiseido

Bel Ami by Hermes

Belle d'Opium by Yves Saint Laurent

Black Jeans by Versace

Bleu by Paul & Joe

Bleu de Chanel

Bois de Santal by Keiko Mecheri

Bois de Turquie by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier

Bois des Iles by Chanel

Boucheron femme by Boucheron

Bronze Goddess by Estee Lauder

Bulgari Black by Bvlgari

Burberry for Men

By Man by D&G

Cannabis Santal by Fresh

Cefiro by Floris

Chaos by Donna Karan

Chinatown by Bond no.9

Classic 1920 by Bois 1920

Comme des Garcons by Comme des Garcons

Contradiction for Men by Calvin Klein

Dolce Vita by Dior

Eau de Monsieur by Annick Goutal

Eau de Sandalwood by Le Jardin Retrouve

Eau de Santal Extreme by Floris

Egoiste by Chanel

Fahrenheit by Dior

Fete d'Hiver by Ayala Moriel

Ginger Essence by Origins

Hasu-no Hana by Grossmith

Idole de Lubin

Jazz by Yves Saint Laurent

Le Male by J.P.Gaultier

Le Roi Santal by Comptoir Sud Pacifique

Les Saisons: Automne by Van Cleef & Arpels

Loulou by Cacharel

Macassar by Rochas

Magical Moon by Hanae Mori

Maharadjah by Patricia de Nicolai

Mahora by Guerlain

No.1 for women by Clive Christian
Original Santal by Creed

Pleasures Sandalwood Amber Splash by Estee Lauder  
Samsara by Guerlain  
Sandalwood by Elizabeth Arden
Sandalwood by Pacifica

Sandalo by Lorenzo Villoresi
Santal by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Santal by Roger & Gallet  
Santal 33 by Le Labo
Santal blanc by Serge Lutens
Santal de Mysore by Serge Lutens
Santal Majuscule by Serge Lutens

Santal Imperial by Creed

Santal Noble by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier

Santalum by Profumum
Tam Dao by Diptyque

Ref: Christian Chapuis, In the Quest for a Virtual Pseudo Receptor for Sandalwood-Like Odorants, Part I, Chemistry & Biodiversity, Volume 1, Issue 7, July 2004 [1] Eden botanicals

Le Labo Santal 33: fragrance review

One of the most common questions I get in the mail revolves around the nuances, replication and substitution of perfumery ingredients, accounted by the perceived authority that Perfume Shrine has won in the hearts of perfume aficionados regarding the research on perfumery raw materials (we've tackled most in detail). Sandalwood and its varieties had escaped us and this should be amended soon. In the meantime, we got the chance for a preview sampling of Le Labo's Santal 33, a fragrance onomastically loaded and inspired by "a man and his horse in front of the fire on a great plain under tall, blue evening skies [...] firelight in his face, leaning on the worn leather saddle, alone with the desert wind".

In short, the Marlboro Man, all tough bravado and that special kind of personal freedom only available in a place where no one would be nagging about worn clothes scattered on the floor, or missed orgasms via hitting the snore button too soon. Ah, cowboy country bliss; a man's man land! But there you are and history places its mark of irony once again on what we thought one way but used to be another.

Marlboro was originally introduced as a feminine cigarette, philtered and all, and tagged "Mild as May". It took the creative genius of Leo Burnett in the span of a few months in 1954 and the rugged tawny face of Darrell H. Winfield to transform one appearence to another. And boy, did it ever came through! It's a comparable case with sandalwood and its substitutes: We tend to imagine one thing when we reference sandalwood, we come up with another reality when faced with it in a fragrance. The endangerement of natural Indian sandalwood, especially in the Mysore region, has required the substitution of this precious ingredient in fine fragrance with synthetic varieties, some of which are quite costly in themselves and beautiful to smell, possessing some of the beloved "creamy", milky facets of natural sandalwood. But not all perfumers or all fragrances aim to merely replicate that scent: In Le Labo's case it would be a gross miscomprehension to assume that they were in the first place. They're quite clear on using Australian sandalwood (Santalum spicatum), which is a different variety than Mysore sandalwood (Santalum album): indeed the Australian variety is more pungent, sharper in its dryness, with less density, almost metallic in its fine smokiness, still compatible to scent of skin. These attributes are highlighted in the newest launch of Le Labo. Like its creator, perfumer Frank Voekl had divulged a while ago:

"I’d like to design something that highlights one’s natural smell, as opposed to a scent to cover it up. It would be a skin product that blends with your scent rather than scenting you. Like an outfit woven from fragrance" [1]

Lovers of the musky woody Gaiac 10 by Le Labo might find a similar outfit in the new Santal 33, although the latter is sharper, less round than the afore mentioned, with a woodier rather than muskier core structure.

Santal 33 develops in roughly two main stages, not wildly opposed: The opening is full of the roughened up dry woodiness, as much due to Australian sandalwood as to cedarwood and its synth conspirators, with that characteristic duet which makes its appearence in masculine perfumery to great aplomb, and cardamom making a welcome respite, although nowhere as prominent as in Cartier's Déclaration. The woods are fanned on copious amounts of ionones from the violet & iris "note" listed, a hint of fruity coconut in the background. Nota bene this stage is brought to greater advantage on skin than on the blotter (where the fragrance can be rather screechy), while the latter stage includes an amplifying of the ambery-woody tonalities due to the marked presence of Ambrox. Despite assurances to the contrary, I cannot find any "leathery" accord to speak of, apart from the naturally pungent facets of the Aussie sandalwood raw material itself. Perhaps my own leather receptor is set on rather high. But rest assured the fragrance is as butch and rugged as a real rancher riding on a leather saddle.
The fragrance was composed byGerman-born perfumer Frank Voekl (He created Le Labo Baie Rose 26 with its peppery pink peppercorns rose, Iris 39, the quiet Musk 25 and indeed the Santal 26 candle on which the idea for Santal 33 sprang from; but he also authored fragrances for such diverse clients as Chantecaille, Tommy Hilfiger, Guerlain, Cerruti, Dior, Colette, Kenneth Cole and Laura Mercier).[2]

Overall Santal 33 is more masculine than feminine, as befitting its reflected image of distorted marketing genius, or rather it is a unisex fragrance for those who shy away from gender in their fragrances. Girly girls should therefore not apply. Still, I consider myself a rather girly girl and I found things to like in Santal 33, especially the phenomenal tenacity and the humming but always perceptible projection in terms of fragrance volume.

Notes for Le Labo Santal 33:
Australian sandalwood, papyrus, cedarwood, cardamom, iris, violet, ambrox and leather accord.

Santal 33 is an Eau de Parfum which forms part of the permanent collection, available from Le Labo, Barneys. It is a Colette exclusive in Paris at the moment, retailing €110 for 50ml, €170 for 100ml and is on pre-order online (it will be shipped in a few days).

A footnote on the accompanying images:
The Marlboro Man is such an American icon that I couldn't but pick an American actor who embodies those values to accompany my review, yet I couldn't bring myself to use the actual faces of the Marlboro brand. Hence rangy Sam Elliott of the mustachioned magnificence. As one writer writes: "Not since Scottie Pippen's nose has a (visible) body part taken on such a life of its own. It strategically hides the mouth of this modern cowboy, not letting any potential foes realize that he's already whispering their last rites."
The second picture comes from tawdryknickers.com and showcases perfectly the sheer irony. I thought you'd get a kick out of it!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Le Labo news & reviews

[1] interview on Osmoz

Disclosure: I was sent a preview sample by Le Labo.