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SmellyBlog

Paris



I have always intended to review Paris in a larger context of a feature series about Sophia Grojsman and her (many) roses. There is perhaps no other perfumer who uses roses so often and in such a distinct manner as she does. So this is by no means going to be the last time Paris will be mentioned in SmellyBlog. Hopefully, by the time I’ll write about it next I would have actually been to the city and could draw from my own personal experience rather than that of books I’ve read and movies I’ve watched.

YSL Paris is the Paris of everybody fantasies. It’s the Paris Carrie Bradshaw hopes to fulfill a true love in before she learns how lonely can beauty be (especially when you don’t know the language and your lover is a selfish Russian painter that looks like a ballet dancer); it’s the Paris that Parisians criticized was too fluffy and pretty in the film Amelie. You will not, however, find any of the darkness and romantic idealistic poverty of Les Miserables or the conspiracies of The Black Tulip. If that’s what you are looking for, you will be better off overdosing on Rive Gauche; or many other French perfumes that I can think of but don’t have room to list here.

Paris is pink, pretty, and rosy. It’s a day without a cloud and love without quarrels. It’s too good to be true. And that’s because it is a fantasy, thought up by a Russian perfumer for the most Parisian and French couturier alive at the time. There probably isn’t any better house to have made a perfume of that name. And this is also probably the most popular from this house.




Paris has Grojsman’s signature rose-peach- vanilla -violet accord. It opens bright and clear, with sheer citrus and peach and while it is sweet it is certainly not as sweet as other perfumes from that genre (i.e.: Bvlgari, Nahema, Tresor). There is something just a little more lighthearted about it. As the brightness of rose bergamot and peach dissipate, the more powdery aspects of rose take over, backed up with violet and the seductive vanillic whispers of heliotropin. As sweet as the base may be, it still has that dry edge to it, from woody notes of cedar and sandalwood. After a couple of hours of wearing, Paris becomes smoother again, this time developing a hint of wet-petal texture, the rosy sweetness tampered with a certain coolness (perhaps the mimosa?). The last breaths of Paris are redolent of dead roses whose life preserved in a glass coffin filled with amber and musk.

Paris may be too pretty for my style and taste, but it sure can put a smile on my face.

Top notes: Bergamot, Geranium, hawthorn, Hyacinth
Heart notes: Mimosa, Rose, Violet, Lily of the valley
Base notes: Cedar, Sandal, Heliotrope, Amber

Rive Gauche


La rive gauche, originally uploaded by FOTOURBANA.

Today I wore Rive Gauche for the first time. Despite the many good things I’ve heard about it I was never drawn to it. Perhaps it was the plain, matter-of-factly canister in which it is stored; or it may be the fact that adehydic florals, even the most iconic ones, are not exactly my style. I’m ashamed to admit that it has never managed to cross the scent-strip barrier and concur my wrist until YSL’s death and this humble tribute I’m paying him on SmellyBlog.

Rive Gauche is the name of the Left Bank of the Sienne river which divides the city of Paris to the northern “right bank” and the southern “left bank”. This area is considered one of the most romantic and artistic areas of Paris, which was home to artists such as Picasso and Matisse, writers Hemingway and Fiztgerald and of course the infamous existentialists – Sartre and my favourite of them all, the writer, composer, lyricist, engineer, jazz musician and existentialist Boris Vian.

The perfume by this name was created in 1970, 4 years after YSL has invented the “ready-to-wear” concept with his “Rive Gauche” line, which was first sold in his Rive Gauche boutique. By creating this line YSL has made fashion available to everyone and many will argue that this has changed the world in more ways than there is space here right now.

The perfume is a chic and classy aldehydic floral with a cool woody base surrounding mostly Haitian vetiver. Aside from vetiver, I can’t descern any particular note a they are all very well blended in a way that characterizes many French perfumes from the 1940’s and 1950’s. It starts with a hint of green and gives off an aldehydic floral roundness. I can’t say any of the florals stands out in particular, except perhaps for the rose. And it is still a rather cool rose. The base is where the theme of the perfume resides – mostly with Haitian vetiver as I mentioned earlier, with its cool and tart presence that feels clean and cozy, furnished and outdoorsy all at once. Sandalwood is another note that is quite dominant (perhaps this is the reason why Rive Gauche to resembles Bois des Iles, even if just a tad) and later on the bitterness of tonka bean creeps in, almost convincing me that I’m actually smelling a Guerlinade.

While I appreciate the fact that Rive Gauche is well made and like the fact that the emphasis is on the jus rather than the packaging (that being said, the thought that went into the packaging is significant and makes a fashion statement in its utilitarian approach – it was designed to be easy to pack into a suitcase; a real advantage for the adventurous, traveling career woman – the perfect fashion accessory to go with Le Smoking). Perhaps if it was a tad more dry I would have liked it more; but than again, the scent I’m reviewing is most likely the reformulated version. If you know anything about how what was more original about the original Rive Gauche, please do leave a comment.

The notes according to the Perfume Addict database:

Top notes: Aldehydes, Bergamot, Greens, Peach
Heart notes: Magnolia, Jasmine, Gardenia, Geranium, Iris, Ylang-ylang, Rose, Lily of the Valley
Base notes: Mysore Sandalwood, Haitian Vetiver, Tonka Bean, Musk, Moss, Amber

Rive Gauche


La rive gauche, originally uploaded by FOTOURBANA.

Today I wore Rive Gauche for the first time. Despite the many good things I’ve heard about it I was never drawn to it. Perhaps it was the plain, matter-of-factly canister in which it is stored; or it may be the fact that adehydic florals, even the most iconic ones, are not exactly my style. I’m ashamed to admit that it has never managed to cross the scent-strip barrier and concur my wrist until YSL’s death and this humble tribute I’m paying him on SmellyBlog.

Rive Gauche is the name of the Left Bank of the Sienne river which divides the city of Paris to the northern “right bank” and the southern “left bank”. This area is considered one of the most romantic and artistic areas of Paris, which was home to artists such as Picasso and Matisse, writers Hemingway and Fiztgerald and of course the infamous existentialists – Sartre and my favourite of them all, the writer, composer, lyricist, engineer, jazz musician and existentialist Boris Vian.

The perfume by this name was created in 1970, 4 years after YSL has invented the “ready-to-wear” concept with his “Rive Gauche” line, which was first sold in his Rive Gauche boutique. By creating this line YSL has made fashion available to everyone and many will argue that this has changed the world in more ways than there is space here right now.

The perfume is a chic and classy aldehydic floral with a cool woody base surrounding mostly Haitian vetiver. Aside from vetiver, I can’t descern any particular note a they are all very well blended in a way that characterizes many French perfumes from the 1940’s and 1950’s. It starts with a hint of green and gives off an aldehydic floral roundness. I can’t say any of the florals stands out in particular, except perhaps for the rose. And it is still a rather cool rose. The base is where the theme of the perfume resides – mostly with Haitian vetiver as I mentioned earlier, with its cool and tart presence that feels clean and cozy, furnished and outdoorsy all at once. Sandalwood is another note that is quite dominant (perhaps this is the reason why Rive Gauche to resembles Bois des Iles, even if just a tad) and later on the bitterness of tonka bean creeps in, almost convincing me that I’m actually smelling a Guerlinade.

While I appreciate the fact that Rive Gauche is well made and like the fact that the emphasis is on the jus rather than the packaging (that being said, the thought that went into the packaging is significant and makes a fashion statement in its utilitarian approach – it was designed to be easy to pack into a suitcase; a real advantage for the adventurous, traveling career woman – the perfect fashion accessory to go with Le Smoking). Perhaps if it was a tad more dry I would have liked it more; but than again, the scent I’m reviewing is most likely the reformulated version. If you know anything about how what was more original about the original Rive Gauche, please do leave a comment.

The notes according to the Perfume Addict database:

Top notes: Aldehydes, Bergamot, Greens, Peach
Heart notes: Magnolia, Jasmine, Gardenia, Geranium, Iris, Ylang-ylang, Rose, Lily of the Valley
Base notes: Mysore Sandalwood, Haitian Vetiver, Tonka Bean, Musk, Moss, Amber

Kouros


The greek hero 2, originally uploaded by fiumeazzurro.

Kouros is one of those powerhouse perfumes of the 80’s that seem to divide people and rarely gets a lukewarm reaction. The only exception is my brother: all he’s got to say about it was “it’s nice”. Perhaps the fact that he likes dosing in limitless amounts of Old Spice on a daily basis might explain a thing or two.

Kouros is unmistakably sexual and it’s impossible for me to see it in any other way. Without smelling literally of sex (as in “Magnificent Secretions”), it is dead-on rough, raw, dirty outdoor sex smell.

I first tried Kouros over a year ago and found it too potent for the time so I stayed away from it for a while. Today, coming back to it to continue my tribute week to YSL I immediately remembered what Katie of Scentzilla said about Poison and the word “humping” kept popping into my mind uncontrollably. Another thing that I couldn’t help thinking about was the orgy scene of Pan in Jitterbug Perfume. Kouros doesn’t just dry-hump your leg, it goes all the way even if uninvited, half animal and half human, it gets all messy and is not in the least apologetic about it either.

The notes are not easy to isolate in my mind and there is not much literature about it on the internet either. The most comprehensive list of notes can be found on Bois de Jasmin (and I don’t know what’s the source for it, neither can I pin point all of these notes either). So I’ll offer you as usual my attempt at describing the evolution of the fragrance as objectively as possible (if it ever is).


kouros, originally uploaded by wvfonseca.

Kouros opens with an expansive array of notes that are at once herbaceous, spicy and sharp (and might be perceived as “fresh” by some). There is a sense of familiarity at first, resemblence to perhaps another masculine perfume (it could be either English Leather or Tabac Original – I could not find my references as some of my perfumes had to be temporarily stored away, so will have to check later) but at the same time it is nearly unbearably potent as well as awkward. Something about it makes me think of the original Chypre compositions, those made in the island of Cyprus from a mix of dried herbs and a paste of oakmoss and labdanum and resins. The notes are all very well blended as they have coupled with each other and have lost their distinct identities. I can sense the presence of familiar Mediterranean mountain herbs such as sage and perhaps bay leaf or rosemary, lavender and wormwood. The spices I cannot make out but one note is distinctively present – the intensely animalic fragrance of honey combs of dark, rich honey from wild thorny flowers with the scent of propolis still lingering in. It is almost sickeningly sweet and medicinal at the same time. Another note that stands out is that of labdanum, a resinous, ambery oleoresin from the rockrose bushes (also grown on the Mediterranean mountains and hillsides) and a pulsating undercurrent of costus, with its musky goat-like horns that is perhaps the reason why Pan jumps into the picture. As the perfume settles on the skin, the honey and labdanum get rounder and warmer, and the spices and herbs calm down and let go of their sharpness. Indolic notes take the stage with jasmine and civet being the most prominent and only hingts or rose-geranium that give it a more complex, perfumey bouquet. There is also a hint of dryness at the base, though still animalic, from what I believe to be a tobacco note. The drydown is mostly honeyed-ambery yet with the animalic aspect still in place and some dryness of oakmoss and tobacco. Overall, Kouros is sunny, heavy, spicy Chypre reminiscent of blood and sweat.

Top notes: Sage, Bay Leaf, Wormwood, Lavender
Heart notes: Honey, Jasmine, Rose Geranium
Base notes: Labdanum, Costus, Musk, Civet, Tobacco, Patchouli

M7


Yves Saint Laurent, 1971, originally uploaded by Diogioscuro.

Upon applying M7 for the first time, my brother Noam was instantly reminded of a kumzits bonfire and an unidentifiable perfume (my guess: Oud Abu Dabi but when I let him smell them side by side he denied any resemblance). Unfortunately Noam’s skin soaks up fragrances very quickly and M7 was no exception. But before it evaporated completely I did catch a whiff in which M7 smelled very similar to Ambre Sultan with it’s oregano-labdanum accord (my guess is that the amber and rosemary in M7 create a similar effect that may show up better on some skins).

On my skin, M7 starts boldly oud-y and medicinal in a good way. Uniquely woody and definitely a scent that stands out in comparison to any other mainstream men’s fragrances. It is as close to Arabian oud perfume oils as a department store fragrance ever gotten, and that was before niche fragrances have gained the momentum they have reached today. It lasts at this state for a good 2-4 hours at which point it becomes overly sweet as the synthetic musk base takes over. On my skin this is when it turns into raspberry candy. Inbetween the medicinal agarwood and the sugared raspberry there is a short phase where a mineral note of vetiver emerges, dry and almost salty. M7 was created in 2002 and was the 7th YSL fragrance for men (hence the name) and the first scent that Tom Ford creatively directed for the brand. Although marketed for men (the infamous full-frontal male nude is unlikely to be forgotten, and perhaps was intended for masking the previous expose of YSL himself as you can see in the above photograph from 1971). It was designed by noses alberto Morillas and Jacques Cavalier. The notes are said to be the following (though based on my experience I can only assert the presence of agarwood, vetiver, amber and/or labdanum, musk ands raspberry):

Top Notes: Bergamot, Mandarin, Rosemary
Middle Notes: Vetiver, Agarwood
Base Notes: Amber, Musk, Mandrake root

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