Balmain Carbone 2024: fragrance review

 

Les Éternels de Balmain perfume collection, which the new Carbone is part of, is the house’s first offering since officially launching Balmain Beauty in September. Several classics by Balmain are re-introduced, such as Vent Vert (a modernisation of the couturier's first legendary green fragrance from the 1940s and the favourite fragrance of the then young Brigitte Bardot), Ivoire (1979), Ébène (1983), and Carbone (2010), albeit all with a changed formula, equating to a different scent. 

 The latest edition of Carbone (2024), part of the Musk family, is described as Balmain's new creative director Olivier Rousteing's "baby," and when such pronouncements are made you know there is something that has definitely changed in an older fragrance being re-issued. The new Carbone from 2024 is therefore described as "the heady mix of tobacco, suede, cumin and rose and is already beloved by Beyoncé, Dove Cameron and Olivier's mother." Dove Cameron has been video-scoped sporting the 1945 Balmain clutch bag containing the Carbone fragrance to let this seep in. 

 Carbone 2024 by Balmain is a fragrance that drives the quest for identity. "Housed in a lacquered signature black bottle, it reflects all facets of individuality with an assertive duality of maximalist musk and minimalist rose. The fragrance features white musk, rose neoabsolute [sic], suede, patchouli, sandalwood, and cumin, creating a complex scent where pure and carnal elements unite," states the brand. It's not easy to come up with a novel rose these days, when roses have been typified into two main camps. On the one hand the rose-patchouli-oud mélange of the Arabian tradition meant for westerners who want some bang for their buck and the promise of 1001 Nights enfolding in their evening life, as begat by the commercial and critical success of Portrait of a Lady. To me the new Balmain feels like an effort to bridge both categories above; it's soft, but also retains a more shady tonality. It's not entirely masculine, but it's not froufrou feminine either. Although one might consider it dangerous because of the cumin mentioned in the pyramid, it is not dirty, really, it just has a sensuous quality to its rosiness; it's not the screechy kind. It is not ground-breaking either. 

Balmain's Carbone 2024 is intended to appeal to a very wide demographic, case in point being promoted via celebrities that people want to emulate. And this is maybe its major flaw: When trying to please everyone, one doesn't excite anyone enough.

Balmain Carbone 2024 Fragrance Notes: White Musk, rose, suede, sandalwood, cumin, patchouli

Eau d'Ivoire by Balmain: fragrance review

One often sees young girls looking for a perfume for everyday -clean, that will be well liked by their entourage, that will make them feel feminine, and in full possession of the coolness of their youth. They're offered a pile of branded products in big department stores, and one tends to feel a little bit sorry for the embarrassment; too much choice, but too little distinction. Yet small gems await in the wings. Eau d'Ivoire is a cooler and more modern style variant of the re-launched Ivoire by Pierre Balmain (which gave us legendary fragrances like Vent Vert, Miss Balmain and Jolie Madame) a year later, in 2013. 

 

The relaunched contemporary Ivoire by Balmain is also beautiful, with an aldehyde arrangement of cleanliness and soap, less retro-"mommy" compared to perfumer Francis Camail's 1979 original Ivoire (for some funny reason, the perfumer's name always reminds me of Camay soap ...). 

In Eau d'Ivoire we're dealing with a bright, shiny, dominant magnolia that comes to the fore like a young girl at an event, who radiates natural beauty: fresh flawless skin,  sculpted features, loose lush hair, light-footed dance moves, a gaze with no hidden. You look at her and your mood lifts. 

The fragrance of Eau d'Ivoire has that deliriously attractive acidic feeling that men like so much, the freshness of initial spraying that is combined with the feeling of sophisticated musky skin-like haze underneath, which, although it speaks of cleanliness, does not scratch the nose with the sweetish acrid smell of fabric softener. The aldehydidic profile is weakened compared to the original Ivoire, but it is accompanying in a primo secondo fashion. A hint of soap, of the bath ritual, a feeling of well-being and softness remains on the skin when it dries, with a soupcon of clean fractalized patchouli. 

Eau d'Ivoire lasts a rather long time especially on fabric, but noses almost "destroyed" by a diet too indulgent in synthetic vanilla, patchouli and harsh oudh accords might find it undetectable. Solution? After a bout of gluttony, it takes a little fasting to re-evaluate the subtler nuances of good cooking. A break of sweet and acrid powdery smells will convince you of the truth of my claim. 

Parting shot: Eau d'Ivoire reminds me of the also optimistic beautiful Joie Eclat by Valeur Absolue.