Youth Dew! The grande dame that put Lauder on the map by making a perfume accesible to the average American woman, is a landmark oriental that took hints from Tabu and adorned it with the American dream, made it classier and hid the animalic carnality in layers of spices and herbs. What Aromatics did for chypres, Youth Dew did for orientals, and paved the way for the later Opium. While Cinnabar came second, Youth Dew reigned supreme. Review based on a mid 70’s edp atomizer. Youth Dew is above all, spicy. Among the cinnamon, the resins, the pepper, the cloves, the carnations, there are subtle hints of lavender that bring it close to an after dinner digestif. The lavender, always thought as a purifying and cleansing herb, is more than likely attached to the bathing ritual that the original bath oil sought to bring forth. Advertised as a bath ritual/pampering that doubles as perfume, Youth Dew in its original incarnation sticks to skin like honey, enchanting the senses as well as softening the skin, all the while leaving a fragrant trail that is far removed from youth or dew. It’s not the first thing that comes to mind when hearing the name; there’s none of that ethereal softness and tenderness one associates with such a name, but I like to think that Estēe named it after the effect on skin after a relaxing bath; supple, moisturized and fragrant skin that retains the freshness and dew of, well, youth. Somewhere along the fragrant development, there are flickers of flowers. Some rose, some spicy geranium, a bit of jasmine. But nothing stands out, and if you blink you miss it. The star of the show is an incense veiled spice orgy that flickers with orange to create a signature Coca Cola fizz. And it’s not that far fetched; Coke has cinnamon, vanilla, orange and cloves in its recipe and here, Youth Dew eschews the aldehydes (they’re still there, starchy like a freshly pressed shirt) in favor of a citrus pop that makes it different and far more stimulating to the senses. Youth Dew relaxes a bit after many hours, revealing a civet rich base (in the vintage at least) enhanced with musks, earthy patchouli, sandalwood as rich as custard and some vanilla for added creaminess, that brings comfort and makes it more woody. But it doesn’t lower its volume, being highly noticeable for hours on end, especially on clothes and scarves. The trail of it after a long day feels like flowers dipped in sandalwood oil, then burned like incense and rubbed on skin that has a slight layer of high quality vanilla oil that has macerated with gardenia and ylang ylang petals. Vintage formulas turn dark, almost black, but they don’t seem to spoil, feeling freshly bottled. Newer bottles, from around 2008/2014 turn darker but they never reach the potential of the original, feeling one dimensional and a bit synthetic. The subtle variations of herbs and the cozy feel of proper musks and civet is gone, replaced by more vanilla, synth animalic notes and a sanitized patchouli. It feels closer to current Opium as they both share a dissonant starchy feel that aims to replace all the lost and forbidden ingredients. The bath oil on the other hand has fared surprisingly well, wearing perfectly like an extrait, as a layering fragrance, or with some drops added to a neutral cream. And it’s the best version available today for those who are scared of the spray. Youth Dew is a masterpiece, a landmark of American perfumery and of perfume history in general. Anyone looking for a deep spicy and exotic fragrance should at least try YD and decide for themselves if they like it or not. YD is above age, gender or social status. Estēe marketed her fragrance according to the standards of her time, but today it stands proud among current offerings, making it a steal at its price point, far better that current reformulated Opium, and far better than many niche fragrances that sell vapor dreams of the Orient. Had this been housed in a fancier bottle with a catchier name, it would sell like hot cakes well above 150$. Vintage: 10/10, stellar performance. Modern: 7/10 edp, 9/10 bath oil.

Then and now. Youth Dew has changed, or better yet, evolved with the times. It’s no longer that magical black potion with deep balsamic qualities. That mystical brew. Youth Dew has lost some of its heftiness. But just like Aromatics, I can’t seem to get enough of it, no matter the formulation or vintage. Today’s YD is lighter, fizzier and starchier. The drapes of balsams and animal notes have given way to a more spicy feel; the barks and leaves of yore are still there but now it feels slightly more chypre than oriental. What was the blueprint for Opium is, in modern formula, infinitely better than modern Opium. While that one has died, YD is still kicking. The character, the heart, it’s all there. But under new lights, that make the juice more ambery than dark brown, you still get the clove and cinnamon spices, a more pronounced fizzy cola note and a floral oakmoss in the drydown. I can’t say anything bad about it, as it feels today just as modern as it did in 1953. After all, isn’t modern something that is yet to be the norm? Youth Dew is still ages ahead. Long live its beauty!