Elie Saab Le Parfum. Radiance in a bottle! Elie Saab’s first perfume, and arguably the best. This and the Intense share the same character but just like different moments of the day, they have particularities. Le Parfum is the day. That shining sun that starts bright and as the day progresses gets more blinding. Light! The orange blossom, which is the star in all of the line, begins sweet and honeyed, touch of honey to give it more body. But as it wears, the jasmine comes into play. Just like the suns rays become hotter and the light more blinding, so does the perfume become more ‘intense’. I wouldn’t say shrieky because it doesn’t. But picture a scorchin day with the sun reflecting everywhere and the light becoming blinding that it alters your view of your surroundings. This is Le Parfum. But, it stays pleasurable and beautiful all the way. Sweet orange blossom with honey, a more piercing albeit beautiful jasmine adds light and a soft woody background anchors it for hours. Le Parfum Intense is when the sun sets. The orange blossom in the start is way heavier and the honey adds up noticeably making it sweeter and heavier. The ylang adds creaminess and a heavy cream texture; the coolness of the night begins to creep in and the smells around you become more noticeable. The hidden ‘Eau de Cologne’ character of the morning hides behind the miel des fleurs character of the night and brings forth a mesmerizing headiness. There’s also an undisclosed spiciness that smells like ginger, like a sexier Classique while being simultaneously more heady. I’d go for this version if I could only pick one. Both are very orange blossom centered. Heavy, heady, intoxicating and sweet. The oils used are of quality. The interplay of the notes which are basically the same, offer a different character that showcases their qualities perfectly. In a sea of fake florals that are just a facade for more sugar and gourmands, Le Parfum and Le Parfum Intense ring true to their quality of a narcotic floral. If you’ve lived in a Mediterranean country you might be familiar with that feeling of white stone, that in summers past, used to reflect the light of the sun and transmit a blinding whiteness to your eyes and a cool warmth to your skin, without that burning heat we experience now. Summer heat used to be different; it was warm. Now it burns. Les Parfums are the former, with that joyous feeling of what lies ahead. Both have excellent sillage, radiance and longevity!

While there are slight similarities to La Nuit, which to me is outstanding and incomparable to anything else, Zadig resembles mostly those animalic and honeyed chypres of the 70’s that also had an everlasting freshness. Deep, woody, leathery and wildly exotic but with a fruity freshness that permeates all layers. Not cheap fruity like today, but that juiciness of ripe fruit, mature and heat scorched but irresistibly delicious once bitten. Most similar fragrances to me are Vu, Azzaro and Mila Schon. Also, Eau de Zadig is simply the edt version, not a different fragrance. The same case with Metal-Eau de Metal, Calandre-Eau de Calandre etc.

This was absolutely delicious! The most calming and comforting scent ever, I went thru countless bottles and jars of the body cream in the early 00’s, when aromatherapy was at its peek. How I miss this and the zingy Aroma Fit which I also loved… And Helena Rubinstein had a wonderful duo as well, the relaxing and energizing Art of Spa. I miss the days when brands had complete body treatment lines. Any suggestions of something remotely similar to Aroma Calm?

Ma Liberté! Vivid lavender fields, the purple flowers imbued with the piquant sweetness of aniseed and the velvet mystery of heliotrope. A feather soft vanilla infusion, with leathery and animalic tonalities, enriched with skin hugging musks, softens and enlivens the composition making it alluring and kind of electrifying. Jean Kerleo sure left his mark in the house of Jean Patou, and Ma Liberté is one of his last creations before exiting to form the Versailles Osmotheque. Ma Liberté, which was at the time considered an inferior Patou, and which time has given it its rightful status of masterpiece, starts with a very true and vivid lavender. Slightly herbal and medicinal, but with a sweet ‘violet candy’ aspect that is offset with some spiciness. While my nose tells me anise and heliotrope are wrapped around, the effect is like smelling a freshly bottled fougère! Vivid, energizing and invigorating. A tonic for the senses! The lavender never really goes away, but it slowly fades into a rich vanilla tincture with some spicy nutmeg and cloves, that marry perfectly with the warm and slightly dirty musks. The whole effect, just like in all Patous, is of rich tinctures and infusions in which the best of notes are added. The heavy basenotes don’t take away from the lighter notes, but instead form a spine in which the rest of the notes can anchor. In a way, Ma Liberté smells universal, genderless and timeless, although I can easily see it as a 70’s creation. Maybe that’s why it never took off. And while modernizing Moment Supreme, it had to be reincarnated a third time, Pour Homme Privee, to take off and make the latter a highly sought after (and expensive) unicorn. All while Ma Liberté bottles still abound on the secondary market, most still sealed and in very good prices. Like all Patous, quality is off the charts, and sealed bottles shine like freshly bottled ones. Sillage is radiant and longevity even in edt form is remarkable. A Jean Patou perfume made prior to the sale of the house to P&G is a masterpiece, an investment, but most importantly a voyage to a time when quality was the driving force, marketing was a far away term and Patou was up there with Guerlain, Caron and Lanvin. Even better than them, and that’s saying something! For those who miss the Patou pour Homme Privee and even the more elusive Patou pour Homme, Ma Liberté is a very worthy alternative. While not a clone, it heralds the same quality and many olfactory traits that make it a standout among vintage perfumes. A solid 10/10 yet again! Review based on a 200ml edt from 1987.

Myths, now discontinued along with most of the Christopher Chong collection, is a chameleon of a scent even for Amouage standards. While I haven’t been able to try it in damp cool weather yet, I have been wearing it in warmer than average days and I’m finding I enjoy its multifaceted character. Myths opens on my skin with a hay quality. A papery mimosa that reminds me instantly of a zoo. The smell of animals, manure, stables. In the most positive way, Myths starts just like I like my perfumes; bold and dirty. This opening phase is a dead ringer of a slightly lighter Une Fleur de Cassie. While I regret selling my Malle bottle, since I hardly found the occasion to use it, I’m happy to be reacquainted with that wonderful perfume even for a few minutes. Since no mimosa is listed here, I’m guessing it’s a play between the chrysanthemum and maybe the carnation. When the heart starts to shine, Myths moves to chypre territory. The galbanum, which usually is the star when featured, here is more discreet. Along the carnation, undeclared floral notes (rose and jasmine most surely, also maybe mimosa) and some vetiver and oakmoss, it slowly starts to recall big chypres of yore. The ghost of Paloma in particular is quite obvious, with a gentle honeyed sweetness that is elusive at once yet there if you close your eyes. I find it reminds me of the dry chypre variety, so along those lines, one can sense many more shadows in the background. Is that Bandit? Or Cabochard? Maybe there’s some Mystère as well, but like I said, they are shadows of the past along the leathery character of Myths. The drydown shifts once again, and a slight sweetness emerges again. My nose tells me there’s narcissus, some resins along an ambery civet, just like Romanza, which is another perfume I find traces of in Myths. Woody, slightly carnal and salty, with caressing musks. I find Myths, in simple lines, a dry spicy chypre, that mutes its notes down to sepia tones and highlights facets as time goes by. But that somber feel changes when you catch glimpses of past perfumes in this homage. Chong has a powerful vision for his creations, and among their originality there is always a tribute to the past. Myths is in my opinion the penultimate great perfume he made for Amouage before Imitation’s (woman) swan song. A solid bet for lovers of leathery, animalic chypres with a darkness in them!

Shalimar’s baby! What’s not to love, when underneath the tender sweetness, you can already see the cheekbones of the saga? One of the best flankers -in general- ever made!

Mental notes for the time being. -notes list is complete rubbish; this is an animalic leather. -Bandit is the closest relative. I can also imagine that the regular Vivara and the Eau Fraîche are close to Aliage. -again, these notes are absolutely 0% accurate. I guess they go for one of the latest Vivara’s from around a decade ago. -search for it! -the notes for Signor Vivara are what I smell here. Definitely picking up a lot of galbanum and artemisia in the opening. This is GREEN and BITTER just like I like it. A lot of leather too, isobutyl leather. Florals hardly, if any. The animalic facet could be castoreum and/or costus, I don’t get that powdered savon feel of civet but more of an oily scalp feel. There could be some carnation or clove hiding in there. I’d love for the floral notes to come through. Later wearings might show them. Smells impeccably fresh and well preserved. 120ml edt reviewed. Massive oakmoss richness all throughout its evolution. A chypre for the Côte d’Azur goers. 70’s beach glamour.

Gala!! Another 80’s (although launched in 1990) animalic floriental, up there with the likes of Boucheron, Ysatis, Byzance..to some extent, also La Nuit by Rabanne. A gorgeous resinous and sticky floral that bathes in animalic secretions and then makes love to your skin all day and night long! What a pleasure to have something like this embrace you!! Review based on first release edt, sans barcode! What Gala reminds me of the most as soon as it touches my skin is Byzance; that same baroque sweetness from heady white flowers and resins. A sin for the senses. Dark and mysterious from the very beginning. I wouldn’t say the top notes are strong. They’re perfectly preserved, but Gala jumps straight to the point, aka, the heart. The carnation is in charge of spicing up every single note that comes; you have a red rose made even deeper. Jasmine that goes from virginal to night blooming and sweating honey tears. Isn’t there some tuberose and orange blossom? Because their heady sweetness is there. When the ylang ylang shows up, it’s when it reminds me vividly of Ysatis, with that buttery thickness of clotted cream. The dim lights of carnal pleasure aren’t far behind, and even though castor and civy are saying hi from the start, just like they do in Ysatis, they start menaging a dix with the rest of the notes. The drydown is long and very pleasurable. While the floral heart remains, it now allows my favorite animalic couple to take center stage, and all the while, while playing naughty games with the jasmine and carnation and honeyed (very!) orange blossom they start growing bigger and bigger, until all you’re left hours later, is a spicy and ambery cornucopia of lust. Gala remains very very dirty from this point on. The castoreum provides a leathery facet just like the leather in La Nuit. Civet brings forth a slight smoothness that becomes bigger and bigger and engulfs one and the same veil of perversion the above mentioned fragrances do. It might seem innocent at first but Gala is deep down dirty and carnal. It also shouts said carnality for everyone to hear before entering and after exiting a room. The rest of the hours it just seeps in your skin, making you feel and smell like mostly nobody does anymore. Gala won’t sit well with most people today. Bottles are scarce, and the only ones able to appreciate its beauty are us vintage lovers, former users, and perhaps someone who doesn’t want to fit in with the rest of the kids in the candy store. A real stunner! Silage and longevity worthy of a weekend Gala. Yes, the whole 48 hours!!

Many perfumes, especially 70’s and 80’s greens, are considered a witches brew. Not many really are. For me, one is Aromatics. The other is Ivoire. Review based on a 200ml edt splash from either 1980 or 1981. Ivoire is hard to describe or decipher for that matter. It’s a bitter green perfume, where all the other notes simply exist to balance. Every time I’ve worn it, my feelings range from surprise to awe. I find it sometimes a bit rough around the edges, but like a drug it keeps pulling me in. The first few wears were a little bit difficult and I could actually see why many would consider it old fashioned. But one thing happened; I couldn’t keep my nose away from my wrists! It’s as if I was smelling a bitter soap, a green ointment rubbed on nails to avoid bitting them. But nothing was off, nothing felt out of place, and my bottle is as fresh as the day it was made (it came boxed and unused so that helped). The closest fragrance to Ivoire, for me, is Missoni’s original first release, and I’m starting to think the raspberry in both is making the connection in my mind. Ivoire on me is a wonderfully green and bitter soapy floral. I can’t really separate the notes, and even though it changes and evolves, all I’m left is with a living forest emanating from my skin. I find it far more green than N°19 and Silences, far more bitter (something I love) than Armani or Aromatics, less sweet and floral than all the above and also less animalic. For me it’s a study in galbanum, moss, woods, all covered in a bar of ivory soap that has mosses covering it. The late drydown reveals the alchemy with Missoni and then it’s when they share that same mystique of smoothness, that dry feel in your mouth after a cup of tea, and skin that is slightly sweaty, musky, warm. Sexuality vs sensuality emanating from your pores. I find Ivoire different from similar offerings, highly complex with evolution that defies one’s abilities to decipher it. It breathes and changes but it doesn’t allow you to come to close to reveal its layers. Much like the fleeting beauy dressed in ivory that, at the opera, caught the attention of its creator. It’s a stunning fragrance, it brings to life emotions, and while every wear shows small aspects of its beauty, it decides what and when to reveal itself. I absolutely love it, I can’t stop inhaling it, and the fact that it boasts an impressive sillage and longevity makes it ideal for a date with yourself. I don’t consider it similar to the ones that it reminds people of, so it’s very much worth owning it. Although it might be a little hard if you don’t REALLY enjoy green in all its power. A masterpiece!

Maroc is a chameleon of a perfume. Starts out as a primitive concept of what we know today as a rose/oudh accord, becomes a spicy oriental and ends like a herbal chypre. What a journey this is! Review based on the pure perfume spray from the original 80’s version by Ultima II. Musk rose is the star here. But the first few minutes smell of rich red roses with a very earthy patchouli. It smells, in an abstract way, like a rose oudh perfume. Attar preferably. But it doesn’t take long for it to deviate and become more of a spicy oriental; the rose softens, spices come into play, the civet becomes quite noticeable and the honey adds more dimension. It doesn’t go Opium or Youth Dew, but it does approximate it. The honey reminds me of a lighter Teatro Alla Scala. It really blooms in this stage, becoming sweet and enveloping. As it starts to dry down, the spiciness dissipates and a chypre feel surfaces. Herbal, in the vein of Aromatics but with still a spicy twist. The oakmoss makes its presence known, the civet lingers on skin and it feels like I’m a Woodstock hippy that lives somewhere classy. It smells like a million bucks. And in this long drydown, the star of the show becomes the famed Moschata Rose, or rosehip. Musk rose. With a slight lemony twist reminiscent of geranium and green leaves. It oscillates between clean/soapy, spicy/jammy and chypre/animalic oriental. Every whiff and sniff shows a different side to it. Multifaceted and complex, a real showstopper. Goes without saying that vintage lovers are going to absolutely love it, and those of us who also love 60’s, 70’s and 80’s powerhouses consider it a masterpiece. Worthy of having, it warrants eBay searches for a bottle or two. Outstanding sillage and longevity! Sisley’s Soir de Lune is a worthy successor and replacement for this almost unavailable beauty. I’ve found a spray of Paloma and a spray of Soir de Lune make for a cunningly close dupe.