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Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia


White Beauty, originally uploaded by tropicaLiving.

Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia delivers what its name promises and does it well. The execution of this grand floral is surprisingly tame and not in the least obnoxious. Although I can’t say its lacking sillage, it is definitely quieter than most of Estee Lauder fragrances not to mention many other tuberose-themed perfumes.

Tuberose Gardenia remains polished and soft like a white novak purse that’s inevitably saturated with it’s owner’s perfume. Inside the purse you’ll find very few accessories - just what’s necessary for that particular outing. In this case: tuberose and gardenia accords underlined by a woody vanilla base (which halfway through the journey brings to mind the overall impression of Songes). If Fracas is the point beyond which everything is too loud, Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia marks the point on the same spectrum beyond which tuberose starts to whisper.

While Fracas makes me think of other things (disturbingly intoxicating and unrecognizable flowers at night), Tuberose Gardenia leaves me just comfortably pampered with buttery, creamy tuberose and gardenia. There is none of the greenness or complexity you can find in Fracas and which makes it so intriguing as it bounces between gasoline, white flowers, rubber and greenery until it settles down into a creamy tuberose. Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia is straightforward and shows all its card right from the start: it reminds me more of tuberose floral wax than anything else, with its velvety, pampering tuberose headiness. Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia seems to give us what we need in this day and age (aside from the very long name to type over an over again - a trend that I hope would come to an end one of these days!): it brings a simple pleasure just like a much needed vacation.

Fracas


tuberose, originally uploaded by Buttersweet.

Fracas: An over-the-top white floral; a moon-garden outrageously populated by fragrant night-blooming flowers: honeysuckle vines curling their lashes against the dark skies, pale tuberose skeletons trembling in the summer wind and night blooming jasmines exploding their indoles like fireworks. Cool and warm wafts of winds alternate as one walks through attempting to survive this intoxicating olfactory temptations without falling flat on the ground and becoming fully sedated.

Fracas from French translates straightforwardly to “crash” but more specifically - a noisy, disorderly quarrel, fight or disturbance (which is what could possibly happen if this perfume is applied in abundance by a government employee in Canada). If worn in a different setting, the disturbance is bound to be rather pleasant. There is nothing timid, restrained or shy about Fracas. At the same time, it is not nearly as obtrusive as I have expected after sensing the divided opinion about this fragrance, rivaled only by the opinions regarding Angel and Poison.

On the tuberose intensity-spectrum, Fracas sits just at the point where it leaves a (fondly) memorable impression; go any further you are approaching Poison’s aggressive territory. Tamer tuberoses, on the other hand, always live in danger of paling in comparison to this landmark fragrance.

With every wearing of Fracas, it keeps me on my toes as it bounces between gasoline, white flowers, hot rubber and greenery from the florist shops’ cooler. But it’s intrigue lies not only in its contrasting notes, but also in it’s ability to shift its weight between realism (the real living flowers) and the abstract of modern chemistry (bold molecular statements), while never losing its balance.

In its evolution, Fracas starts out as an intense heady floral, yet with depth rather than being high pitched. It was described before me as “sparkling” and I can’t agree with this description more - it has a certain vivacity that makes it seem very light hearted, almost humorous. You could say it’s Narcisse Noir’s blond sister or the glamorous Norma Desmond when silent films were still in production (both perfumes share the intensity of white florals overtop incense, sandalwood and rubbery animalics, with Narcisse Noir being darker and bordering on the decay).

Tuberose and green cool notes (violet leaf?) are further intensified and sweetened by orange blossom and jasmine absolutes. I also smell something reminiscent of stephanotis there though I’ve never seen it listed anywhere. In the first hour of wearing the various floral notes competing simultaneously for the diva role yet somehow end up singing a polyphonic and harmonious coral and acting as counterpoint to one another (they are all bold, loud white florals so the competition is close). Once settled on the skin, Fracas is linearly floral tuberose with the creamy aspect of the flower taking centre stage. From this point on Fracas slowly but surely dissipates into the atmosphere, shedding one layer after the other of its tuberosiness until in the end we are left with a clean, smooth petal underlined with musk, wood and just the slightest hint of acrid oakmoss.

Top notes: Yellow Mandarin, Bergamot, Honeysuckle, Gardenia
Heart notes: Tuberose, Jasmine, Stephanotis, Lily of the Valley, Jonquil, Violet, Orange Blossom, Iris
Base notes: Musk, Vetiver, Cedar, Sandalwood, Oakmoss



Noix de Tuberéuse


flowers from my lei, originally uploaded by flicka23.

These little white flowers from the narcissus family have a rich nocturnal life: it is not until the evening that their scent is at its full intoxicating aphrodisiac powers. It was traditionally considered dangerous for a young lady to pass through them as to be overcome by its intoxicating and voluptuous fragrance and be struck helplessly by it aphrodisiac powers (Poucher, 1959). Different crops and varieties of the absolute smell differently – some are powdery, soft and sweet, other have a slightly green overtones, and the harshest ones have been described as rubbery and almost medicinal.

In modern perfumery, tuberoses are often interpreted as a bombastic, loud and high-pitched narcotic florals. Poison and Fracas are two extreme examples of how tuberose can be treated in a very bold way. Noix de Tuberéuse, however, is the first and only perfume I found so far that is built around the theme of tuberose and does not have a harsh, intimidating, heady and cloying presence.

Noix de Tuberéuse is the softest tuberose and the one that reminded me most of the pure absolute. It is simple and I consider it a soliflore as the other notes all serve to accent different aspects of tuberose: mimosa and clover leaf hint at its slight green top notes; orris enhances its powdery softness; violet flowers bring forth an almost gourmand sweetness; tonka bean brings out its rich yet gentle, creamy-buttery sweetness; and ambery incense and sandalwood add a full bodied yet mysterious aura that along with reminiscence of coconut serves as a reference to the tropical Orient.

All in all, Noix de Tuberéuse is a creamy, buttery, sweet and soft tuberose scent. It reminds me of two things – the first one being the perfume oil called “Night Queen” from India. It is not a fancy perfume – but smells delicate and alluring, like flowers and incense intertwined. I am quite sure it is suppose to smell like tuberose to begin with, as tuberose is often referred to as “Mistress of the Night”.
The other olfactory reference links us back to Lipstick Rose, as it does remind me of the scent of some lipsticks. The violet and orris that appear in both perfumes have a similar effect and create a pleasantly plasticy nuance that is akin to the taste of a shimmering pearly-pink lipstick, if you happen.

The packaging of Noix de Tuberéuse is pink, and I couldn’t think of a better colour to describe this scent. It smells pink to me… It also brings me good memories, from when I first worn it a couple of years ago and my daughter was recovering from a broken femur, an incident that had forced her to choose speech as an effective method of communication... Ever since than she can’t stop talking, and my dreams are coming true. Maybe that is why I associate it more with chilly autumn days. But regardless of my own personal memories and associations, I still feel that the heat (even the very slight heat such as the mild spring weather in which I was wearing this yesterday) upgrades this scent into the next cloying-level which decreases both its sex-appeal and delicacy.

Top notes: Wild Green Clover, Mimosa
Heart notes: Tuberose, Fig, Violet
Base notes: Tonka Bean, Orris, Amber, Sandalwood, Incense, Coconut

p.s. I can't smell the figs on my skin at all. But these are listed on the official Miller Harris website.

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