Today as promised I am attempting to review Y based on only one application that the ladies at Shifeon have spared me from only one of the two packaged (and cellophane wrapped) bottles they have on the shelf of in their Robson street shop.
If Yvresse reminded me of bubbly whispers of Chant d’Aromes, Y immediately shouts the chant out loud. The similarity here is not in the base notes but rather in peachy top notes and the floral bouquet – the innocent yet intoxicatingly sweet honeysuckle and gardenia. There is also a slap of green aldehydes which give it a dominant, bold entrance which is distinct and at the same time similar to other big-time green aldehydic chypres – there is a reference to Miss Dior and Ma Griffe yet without the intensely animalic base; the brisk sharpness that can be found in Private Collection and it also reminds me somehow of AnaisAnais and Laura Ashley’s No. 1.
Although it starts off very floral Y turns to be a lot drier than expected as it develops on the skin. The big statements of gardenia and honeysuckle are replaced by a more sophisticated dry and sober disposition. The heart notes reveal a more green and dry aspect of the rose and the hyacinth, anchored by the dry and green notes of vetiver glimpsing from its base. The phase is not as mossy and Chypric as might be expected. There is very little presence if at all of oakmoss not to mention the other notes listed. It is more woody and dry than anything else - almost to the point of becoming leathery. Vetiver and patchouli are in charge for quite sometime, before the dryout arrives with the re-emergence of warmth by way of oakmoss, civet and benzoin.
Top notes: Peach, Honeysuchle, Gardenia Heart notes: Narcissus, Hyacinth, Rose, Orris Base notes: Oakmoss,Patchouli, Vetiver, Civet, Benzoin
A fairy comes out of nowhere and offers you one application from an unfamiliar perfume bottle. It may be your next favourite perfume or it may be a scrubber. What will you do? Will you have it sprayed on a scent stripe or on your skin?
Please take this review with a grain of doubt. It is based on only one wearing of Yresse. And it’s the first time in a long time (if there ever were such time) that I have applied a perfume to my skin without ever smelling it before. Not on a scent stripe. Not from a vial. Not in a magazine stripe. Nowhere. There are not a single tester of Yvresse in the entire city of Vancouver. In fact there is only one store that sells it and the supply seems extremely low. The shop ownder at Shifeon was kind enough to pull it out of the cellophane-wrapped box and spray me once on each wrist so I can judge for myself (and hopefully come back for more and pay for it next time). She also promised to do the same with Y (another perfume that has become so unpopular in Vancouver that it is no longer carried here).
Yvresse opens bubbly and sparkling yet at the same time also powdery and with an underlying dryness that grabs you by surprise. It has the fuzzy texture of unripe peach skin, crisp and for some reason this misleading sensation of being soft while in fact it is rough and sober. The original name Champagne describes it perfectly as it has all the characteristics of the fancy sparkling wine, including the fruitiness and the elegant white-wine dryness.
And indeed, Yvresse develops like wine, with very subtle changes between the nose and the body being quite subtle. The bubbly, peachy and cool qualities are maintained throughout its life on the skin. And the underlining notes, although a classic chypre accord of oakmoss, vetiver and patchouli are very light and subtle in nature. It is most similar to Chant d’Aromes by Guerlain – a very light, albeit melancholy floral chypre. With its touch of roses and sophisticated soft powder, Yvresse also winks towards another creation by Sophia Grojsman for YSL – Paris. However there is something more original about its overall composition, that makes it different from the other more bold Grojsman perfumes I have experienced – it is just more sheer and lighthearted and romantic without taking itself so seriously.
Thankfully, Yvresse seems like one of those rare occasions of love from first sniff. Perhaps it’s not a great love but just a summer fling, but I am definitely feeling the love emanating from my wrists on this day spent with Yvresse.
The notes, according to Perfume Addicts database are:
When Yves Saint Laurent released Opium in 1977, he didn’t really invent anything new. By that time, women and men have both been exposed to the concept of a dry, spicy oriental that captures the senses to the point of tingling numbness. Tabu in 1932 unleashed the concept of a forbidden concoction of spices over a dry animalic base of patchouli and civet. And 20 years later an innocent bath oil called Youth Dew created a dangerous stir of feminine independence with its deadly dose of both eugenol and indole.
What YSL did do was take the concept of the dry oriental and re-package and re-brand it as a drug. Although there is the element of seduction of the other sex in most of the ads I’ve seen, for the most part Opium ads played on the seduction of oneself, by the perfume itself. The bottle was designed as a vessel for potent drug (taking it’s inspiration from both Chinese opium snuff bottles and Samurai Inro), and I can’t think of any other instances when I actually identified with the look on the actress’s face after anointing her skin with this liquid: her eyes closed as she is transported by heavy sedation I can already sense her heartbeats slowing down and the dulled pain of lost love replaced by hallucinations:
I suppose there was no better time for Opium than the end of the 70’s, by than substance abuse has become pretty much socially acceptable by a large part of the Western culture (at least when it came to cannabis) But all the same managed to create quite a controversy, and have continued to do so even recently (2000), with the ad starring Sophie Dahl in a very revealing attire (she’s wearing nothing but gold stilettos) posing in a manner that probably made those who opposed it to think she’s been just drugged and can be taken advantage of by whomever happen to pass by. By the way, am I the only one who sees the similarity to the poster of the movie "Perfume"?
Opium as a perfume created a doorway between the past and into the (than) future of loud powerhouse perfumes of the 80’s (Poison included); and to prove my point here is Linda Evangelista armed with shoulder pads while shopping for Opium in a Chinese market:
And as a scent it is indeed seductive to the point of being sedative. That can be related to the overdose of eugenol, a molecule that is present in clove and is in part responsible for the anesthetic properties of this spice. The spices used are ancient and their concentration is so high that it could come across as medicinal. In fact, I have heard someone was using Opium body lotion to relieve arthritis pain (do consult your doctor first if you intend to rely on Opium to cure your ailments!).
I have to admit that my Opium substance abuse is pretty limited to the “Opium Lite” of the summer versions, Fleur de Shanghai being one of my all-time favourite perfumes. Opium in its parfum form (which is what I am reviewing here) can be likened to a smoldering smoke of incense and spices and a thick chai tea. It opens with clove buds stuck in the peel of dried orange, familiar like a pomander and intensely so. Pimento berries also add a more complex aspect to the mostly-eugenolic character of the opening; pepper suggests dryness and cinnamon adds sweetness.
The heart notes are floral, most notably orange blossom and carnation. But to say the heart feels floral would be an exaggeration. Although jasmine, rose and ylang ylang are present, they are hidden behind plenty of carnation and more cloves; the floral notes in this oriental in particular have the role of smoothing things out without sticking out or showing their true colours.
The underlying resins are what make Opium stand apart from Tabu and Youth Dew though; if Tabu concentrated on the patchouli and vetiver and Youth Dew is all about indole and eugenol (even more civet than in Tabu) – Opium returns to the cradle of perfume civilization by using a large proportion of opoponax with its powdery, animalic and resinous-sweet qualities, backed up by the dry and sweet bitterness of myrrh and the woody-dry qualities of patchouli. There is a touch of sweetness that is never overly done originated in vanilla and benzoin resin. Both notes serve to accentuate the hint of sweetness present in opoponaz and myrrh. There is no animalic element here that I’m aware of. The pairing of eugenol and resins creates a deep reaction, perhaps connected to the history of incense and Chinese herbal medicine which is quite appropriate with the name borrowing from one of the most ancient and potent drugs used in human history (it was used as far back as in the Sumerian civilization, which is also the oldest civilization to have used incense).
And what’s more interesting - Opium could have easily been an all-natural perfume. Despite the fact that it does include synthetics, it is entirely the natural notes that create the “Opium” character – neither the aldehydes nor the coumarin are responsible for that unique effect.
Base notes: Opoponax, Myrrh, Patchouli, Benzoin, Vanilla
And last but not least is this irresistible spoof ad. It is only now after Yves Saint Laurent's death I understand that perhaps the choice for the name of this perfume is a little more personal than I thought before. It is more than just probable that he has chosen to draw from his own life experience and give it a different interpretation, through fragrance (And Kate Moss is notorious for several other things besides being the queen of perfume ads over the past 2 decades... I simply couldn't resist posting this!). In the context of addiction and drug abuse, perfume has a very harmless role, even if easily suggestive of both seduction and addiction by the mere fact that is usually applied to the pulse points and ultimately inhaled afterwards.
Yves Saint-Laurent, the last great French Coutourier has died today from brain cancer at the age of 71. Yves Saint Laurent was a significant figure in fashion history, a revolutionary in his designs as well as the social and cultural significance his fashion had. His achievements are too many to mention, but here are just a few examples of how Monssieur Saint Laurent has changed the world: - At the tender age of 21 he saved the house of Dior from financial ruin (that was after the death of Christian Dior). - YSL invented the first tuxedo suit for women - Le Smoking - YSL was the first to have black models in his fashion shows - YSL was the first living designer to be honoured by the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art, and many credit him for raising fashion design to the level of an art form (or at least make the public think about fashion that way).
You can click here to read the global tribute to YSL and get a sense of the loss his death caused. A few examples of his influence are reflected in the following quotes:
"Chanel gave women freedom (in the 1920s and 1930s). Yves gave them power ... he was a libertarian, an anarchist who threw bombs at the legs of society." (Pierre Bergé, YSL's lifetime business partner and former lover)
"One of the great names of fashion, the first man to elevate haute couture to an art form." (French President Nicolas Sarkozy)
"Creative genius who changed the world of fashion forever". (Tommy Hilfiger)
As far as perfumes go, YSL has released several perfumes of great significance in perfume history, most notably Opium, Yvresse and Rive Gauche; and has an outstanding collection of daring fragrances for men, including Kouros, Live Jazz and M7.
This evening I was wearing M7 in his honour, and I know many other perfumistas around the world were wearing YSL perfumes to show their respect to this great coutourier who seem to have passed away so soon. In the coming week, we will dedicate each day to review a perfume from this house, to hounour the life and creations of Yves Saint Laurent and say farewell. My brother Noam will join me in reviewing the men's fragrances.
Sometimes, it is more difficult to write a review about a perfume you love. But sometimes a thing of beauty does not need any more words to describe it in order to convince one of its beauty. This is the case in Fleur de Shanghai – the most addictive Opium I have ever tried. There is really not much more to say. The notes are simple. The structure is simple and coherent. The scent is simply divine from start to finish. Even if I could, I wouldn’t change a single note about it. So what is there to say about a perfect perfume, whose only flaw is that it is a limited edition? This special one is doomed to become extinct before even having an adequate shelf exposure. A unique flower hybrid designed to bloom for only one season, and than collect dust in a safe somewhere and become forgotten along with hundred other limited edition and discontinued fragrances.
I wish I could say more about Fleur de Shanghai besides that it is beautiful, and state my reasoning more clearly for why this scent should not be a one-season-stand. I would love start up a petition to YSL’s perfume division and beg them to change their minds and add Fleur de Shanghai to the permanent collection. But I am afraid this will be useless, for this scent was meant to be nothing more than a retail success. If Opium hasn’t proceeded it, I am certain Fleur de Shanghai would have gracefully joined other classics in the Perfume Hall of Fame (that, of course, if such a thing really exists in a perfume world where hundreds of new releases happen every season, and classics become discontinued or are altered in order for the big corporations to make more money). Please do tell me if I am not alone in my devoted affection to Fleur de Shanghai.
Fleur de Shanghai starts with lovely notes of mandarins, underlined with the sweet-spiciness of cloves, as cozy as my grandmother’s perfect honey cake. The heart is floral yet light: magnolia petals unfold to reveal their fresh and cool honeyed scent along with a hint of green, and tiny white star jasmine blossoms float around delicately like miniature steps of Asian dancers concealed by their floating robes. A heavy undercurrent of myrrh, narcotic and poetic, is soon unleashed and becomes the centre theme, underlined with just a hint of Saxon moss to keep it dry and balanced its medicinal aspects, and made delicious by coumarin and sheer vanilla – mellow and sweet yet light-weight.
Fleur de Shanghai was love at first sniff. In fact, I loved this summer version of 2005 so much, that I had to stock up. Luckily, my perfume collection is big enough to distract me from its extinct status for most of the year. But when summer comes – I have to wear it very often and seem to never get enough of it. I enjoy re-applying even though it has a great lasting power. It never seems to overwhelm though. Despite its sweet notes, the myrrh and moss make it as refreshing and protective as a rice-paper parasol, Vetiver woven mats and blinds, and pale linen suits. I run out of 50ml just last summer. So I guess I have 3 more years to go if I am counting the other 100ml bottle that I have saved for bad days. I also have Fleur Imperiale, the limited edition for summer 2006 – pleasantly based on myrrh like Fleur de Shanghai, but lacking the unique sweetness of magnolia, which is replaced but a much less significant or authentic osmanthus and apricot blossoms.
