Fragrance Reviews by Ms Rochambeau

Hell has frozen over. I never thought I'd say this, but I love Chanel No. 5. Between reading books on the history of fragrance and reading reviews on Basenotes I am learning a lot and that has been instrumental in opening my mind (and my nose ) up to things. I was always puzzled by the populatity of Chanel No. 5, but I didn't want to give up on it. Periodically I would go to my perfume stash over the years and spritz on some Ch5 from the refillable EDT atomizer my mother had given me years ago, and each and every time, the opening blast of aldehydes would repell me and I would run to scrub it off. Then about a month ago I deceided I was going to get to the bottom of this Ch5 thing once and for all by trying various strengths and vintages of the scent. I already had the EDT (from the early 1990's), then discovered I had an EDP (new) strength among my many perfume samples. All I needed now was a vintage pure parfum. I managed to get my hands on a half of a half oz. vintage bottle (from the 50's judging from the stopper' shape).

From what I read, it was Chanel's intent to have a perfume that did not smell like any particular flower or any other immediately recognizable thing. She desired something that was more of an abstract scent, free of perconceived associations, something that was it's own thing. As a painter I immediately understood that and proceeded to test all 3 versions of the scent with that in mind. I started with the EDT which I had had the longest. This time I waited patiently for the strongly aldehydic phase to wear away and was surprised to discover subtle leathery and animalic notes (does anyone else get that leather note?), that I absolutely love, in the drydown. Wow!. Next I tried the newer EDP. Interestingly, I detected a slight "fruity" note leaving me to wonder if this newest version had been slightly reformulated to satisfy the trend for scents with fruit notes. Last, I tried the pure parfum. That's the one that did it fro me. I don't know if time has mellowed the blast of aldehydes, or what, I just know that this version is beautiful from start to finish. The notes are blended so well that I can't single anything out. It is just it's own beautiful thing that changes and surprises me the whole time I'm wearing it. I love layering the EDT with the pure parfum. Not surprising, the new EDP is my least favorite of the three. I understand now why Marilyn Monroe would wear Ch5 to bed: when you smell your wrist in the morning, there are no words to describe how pretty that last faint trace of this scent is.

There is nothing "old lady" about this as far as I'm concerned. In fact, I have no idea of what certain reviewers mean when they describe something as smelling of "old lady" and even though I'm not an old lady, I still find it limited and insulting. Do they mean smelling of a "classic scent"? Because that's the way I take it. I know that when some one says this about a scent, they mean it as a negative. However, I take it as a positive, and a cue that the scent they are describing is probably as far from a cheap, trendy, Paris Hilton or Britney Spears tooty-fruity gourmand as you can get.

I can now see why Ch5 has been around for almost 90 years and will probably be around for 90 more. Thanks Basenoters for helping me to discover this gem!

Poivre Piquant opens with a creamy-soft butteriness and reminds me a lot of Mechant Loup, another L'Artisan scent. There's also liquorice and very faint honey note. That phase is really nice. However, within moments, a pepperiness sets in that is very off-putting (too peppery, which doesn't leave room for much else to come through very well). From then on, the scent is a dry, milky pepper note that wears very close to the skin with very little sillage. Then suddenly, it disappears altogether.All that this scent has to offer comes within the first 15 minutes. I'll give it a neutral thumb instead of a thumbs down since the opening is nice.

This is a little too heavy on the floral notes for me. If you're into florals you would probably like this. I wouldconsider this more of a feminine scent and if you want a good idea of what you're getting before you try it, think Fracas.

I had this sample for a while, but was put off by the name since I'm not a big fan of scents where rose is the focus. But last night as I was in a mood to try one of the many samples I had cast aside due to my preconcieved ideas about them (I'm learning). I chose Voleur de Roses. The initial blast is almost medicinal and camphor-like, but after a while it settles into a rich, wet, earthy patchouli tempered by the gentle scent of rose. This worked for me since I am a fan of patchouli. If you dislike patchouli, or you're expecting a soft feminine floral, don't even consider this scent since it's pretty linear as far as that note is concerned. I never got the plum note that others have mentioned. Through most of the drydown the scent reminded me of a more low-key Borneo (Serge Lutens) minus the powdered cocoa note. At some points the scent is almost like oud. I'm happy that I reconsidered this scent. It's definitely unisex and I would wear it again, but I think it would be GREAT on a man.

The note of pine dominates this fragrance. I must say that while it was an experience, it didn't really live up to all of the reviews about its power, and strange beauty. It just kept reminding me of two things: one was the faint smell of the live Christmas tree that seemed to linger in our house months after the holidays where over when I was growing up. The other is the smell our kitchen after my mother had mopped the floor with a mixture of hot water and Pine Sol. While both smells evoke thoughts of comfort and cleanliness, its not something I find attractive on my body. I can't say that it's bad, I just don't feel that I need to experience this again as a perfume.

I once had the opportunity to visit Russia when I was participating in a joint show of Russian and American artists. They graciously held a reception for us at a very grand old building that sits opposite The Saint Basil Cathedral on Red Square in Moscow. Beautiful crystal chandeliers provided warm, ambient light and as a 4 string quartet played, tuxedoed waiters kept the champagne and vodka coming on polished silver trays. At some point during that cold December evening the huge wooden doors of that grand building were flung open and became a perfect frame for the view of the onion-domed cathedral at the opposite end of the square. Perfect snow flakes were falling and I stood mezmerized feeling like I was standing in the middle of a scene that could have been in Dr Zivago if it wasn't the year 2000.

Please excue my moment of reverie, but it helps to explain why I think this scent is a masterpiece. The opening is all boozy amber making it one of the most unusual scents I've ever experienced. The alcohol starts to recede after about 20 minutes to a half an hour, making way for more amber and what smells like the tobacco from an unlit fine cigar. But at the same time, if you put your nose to your wrist, you can smell notes that are both floral and spicy. I have yet to get the leather note that everyone mentions, but it doesn't matter, there's enough going on here to satisfy me and the amber is gorgeous througout. I don't know, maybe the 8 days spent in Moscow and St Petersburg primed my imagination, but I can see how this could have been the elegant/decadent smell of Russia at the time of Czars and Czarinas. Silliage is perfect. Love it!

On me, Cuir Mauresque starts out like some kind of cleaning fluid. It's not awful, but it's atrange and strong. After about ten minutes it starts to settle into s mild and spicy leather that's rather sweet. There is a slight floral note in there but it stays in the background. The sillage at this point is mild. While the drydown is nice, I was hoping for a leather that was either a little more animalic and/or smoky. ZZ Top was right (see his review below), on my skin this is more ambery and floral when it's all said and done. My top 3 leathers are still, Montale's Aoud Cuir d'Arabie, Tabac Blond, and vintage Jolie Madame (which can be found regularly on ebay). I think CM is a pretty scent, but since it wasn't the hardcore leather I was looking for, I'm giving it a neutral thumb.

I managed to get a vintage bottle of the parfum. I'm slowly trying to experience more of the Caron's since, so far, I've only experienced Parfum Sacre. Infini is a scent that I just can't figure out. First out of the bottle it is definitely an aldehydic floral, but as it settles down, I really can't distinguish any notes with the exception of what I think is vetiver that starts to emerge. The scent goes away very fast on me (within an hour) almost without a trace. It's not bad, but it doesn't move me enough to make me think I'll want to reach for it again other than to sniff it from time to time. Some scents grow on me (see Parfum Sacre update below), but Infini doesn't have enough of what I like in the first place for that to be a possibility. Oh, well, I still have this odd, infinity-shaped bottle to add to my bottle collection and I didn't pay much for it.

Parfum Sacre Update: A friend gave me a full bottle of the EDP as a present and I've learned to ignore the pepper note that turned me off at first, since that note seems to wear away very fast on me. What's left after that is a scent that developes into something absolutely heavenly and lasts for many hours. I'm now glad that I didn't let the pepper note make me give up on it.

My feelings were mixed when I decided to track down a small amount of Fracas to try. From all that I'd read about it I came away with the impression that no self-respecting perfumista would be caught dead without some form of that scent in her wardrobe. However, I don't care for big florals. Up until now the only experience I had with it was a couple of spritzes on a department store paper tester, so I was waiting to find it in parfum form so that I could get the full experience. I managed to find a 3 ml mini pure parfum last week for under $10. Almost everyone seems to love this and I don't think all of those people are wrong. It's me. I tried, but I cannot take overly floral scents, especially when they are linear.To me this is what happens with too much of a good thing:there are too many flowers here and the other notes that should give it a little more balance, don't. All this tension between the floral and the "dark" that supposedly earns this scent it's name, doesn't happen on me. It stays much too floral and shrill on me all the way through, then just disappears. I can imagine that if you like florals, this is absolutely wonderful, so I'm not giving it a thumbs down because I think is an awful or badly made scent, I'm giving it a thumbs down as a "heads up" for anybody who is trying to steer clear of big florals, and because it doesn't work for me.

As a lover of leather scents I had been trying to get my hands on a bottle of this for a while now. I finally acquired a vintage mini of Jolie Madame today. The opening is very sharp but as those first top notes start to settle down, I can smell the leather note emerging immediately. Other reviewers have mentioned violet and that may indeed be one of the things I'm smelling in the opening, however, my immediate impression is a smokey combination of tobacco, tea and leather. This was note quite what I expected and I was pleasantly surprised and a bit thrown off. I'm amazed that this one is categorized as a feminine scent because this is definitely unisex as far as I'm concerned. There's nothing sweet about it. From all I've read, it has apparently been reformulated in recent years to appeal more to current tastes, and I'm not surprised given the fruity gourmand trend in perfumery today. This is as far from that as you can get. This doesn't smell like Bandit but it definitely has the same attitude.

If you like Bal a Versailles you'll like La Nuit. They have a lot in common in the beginning and in the middle. La Nuit is definitely a leather scent, but it's not as hardcore as, say, Montale's Cuir d'Arabie, which has become my reference leather. The leather comes early in the drydown and this is when it reminds me most of Bal a Versailles. That stage lasts for a while, but then something strange happens. With La Nuit, it's all about the drydown. That's where the scent's real personality emerges and sets it apart from everything else. It seems to develop into something from another era. It starts to smell more animalic and "vintage" in a way that's hard to put your finger on. Perfumes of today smell nothing like this in the drydown. At this point on, it is nothing like Bal a Versailles, but is it's own undefinable thing. In my opinion, it's not quite as raw, "filthy" or "vulgar" as some reviewers have described (I wish it was), but it's definitely provoking and sensual.

I agree with eugenie about this one. It's very nice, but there's nothing about it that knocks my socks off. I expected to really like this as I was very intrigued after reading many of these reviews for it here on BN. I was hoping for, but got absolutely NO rubber, leather or anything rough and tough like that. Instead it was a predominantly vanilla scent on me. In my opinion it's very tame. It wouldn't be the one I would reach for if I was trying to make a statement. The sillage is good and it's definately a unisex scent.

Pure genius. This is what comes to mind: earth, leather, tobacco, wood, smoke, urine. It's pungent, animalic, meaty, rich. All of that is the opening of Onda. I was immediately smitten. I couldn't function because I couldn't tear my wrist away from my nose long enough to do anything. After everything I've read about this, the only notes I could gather from various websites are vetiver roots, ginger, mace and coriander. There has to be more to it than that. This is too well blended for my amateur nose to pick out individual notes, but as the scent dries down, the vetiver emerges and this is where Onda crosses paths with the Guerlain classic, Djedi (see my review for Djedi where I compare it with Onda). Shortly after, the most unlikeliest of notes comes to accompany it: soft baby powder. As strange and confusing as Onda is, I find it warm and comforting. when I wear it I feel like I'm letting everything that is the best of me emerge. It's unbelievable. This is that kind of scent that keeps me wondering "How did she do this?" In my opinion, this scent could one day be as sought after as Djedi is now. It's that sublime. I guarantee that this is going to be one of those scents where the reviews for it could be split down the middle.

Onda is at the top of my wish list. I'm absolutely "ga ga" over it. I'm even thinking about taking the box containing $150 in gold dollars my Mom gave me last Christmas that I was saving for something special and plunking it down on a full bottle of Onda. From what I've read it's supposed top be available in the U.S. in September. I'm waiting, but not patiently.

Mauboussin is all candied fruit and creamy woods. It's really pretty and delicious in that Angel kind of way. I enjoyed it and it lasts a long time, but it belongs in a genre that's the trend in perfume these days ( the fruity gourmand), so there really aren't any big surprises here.

What makes Mitsouko so mysterious is that it's difficult to define. it's so well blended that it's difficult for me to pinpoint many individual notes. I have both the vintage and the new. They are almost the same, but with slight differences. The vintage opens up on me with a more nutty cinnamon note. From the beginning the vintage version seems to maintain a kind of aloofness. However, as the fruity peach note comes to the front the scent gets only slightly warmer. This stage lasts pretty long on me. As it dries down further, I get a vetiver note that combined with the cinnamony peach is really strange, giving this scent the quirkiness that makes it so amazing for me.

The new mitsouko is the same but the main notes seem to be in reverse order for me. In the new version the peach note is there right out of the gate with the cinnamon emerging a little later. The new version is also noticeably warmer and slightly sweeter in my opinion. In germanomio's review he mentioned that the vintage version had a "frying oil" smell and I get exactly the smell he's talking about, except that I'm getting it from the new version. That smell combined with the peach/cinnamon notes evokes a vision of donuts in the process of frying and I actually find that comforting.

The new Mitsouko, unlike most reformulations, has remained true to the spirit of the original. But it's also more "accessible" by today's perfume standards making it a little less mysterious and aloof. I appreciate both and will sometimes layer them for the qualities that they both bring.

I've had a small bottle of Coco in my collection for a years and I've just decided to try it. I've held off all this time because I assumed I wouldn't like it because of the aldehydes (the main reason I'm not a Chanel fan). It started out smelling a little too perfume-y or what you would expect a good perfume to smell like. It smells very nice and well made, but there was nothing really exceptional about it that set it apart from, and above all others for me. I was patient enough to let it play out, but as I smelled my wrists over the next couple of hours my opinion of it didn't change. I liked the things that were happining in the drydown ,and I can see why it was popular in the eighties and why so many people still like it, but I prefer scents that are a little more quirky, challenging and thought provoking. I don't know, maybe it was groundbreaking in the eighties, but it's much to "proper" now.

renperd's review made me laugh because Bal a Versailles is like a coquette. The opening (for me) is powdery cinnamon/clove and florals. As it starts to dry down a rich woodiness emerges that's velvety soft and still overlay-ed with spice. Unlike others, I can't call Bal a Versailles a warm scent because throughout it always seems to remain cool, refined and aloof. It teases you by pulling you in just enough, but never allowing you to get close enough to really figure it out. B a V is as hard to pin down as Mitsouko because of the way it keeps playing and changing on my skin as time passes. It's never overly sweet, but just perfect in it's balance. This is one of those scents that I can suddenly be hit with a craving for, like a slice of pizza, or some other satisfying food. The far dry down is a soft, faintly sweet and powdery leather that can be swoon inducing.

Many have talked about how animalic this is, but I don't get much of that at all. For me, what makes this a romantic and seductive scent is the sense of mystery it evokes. If you don't care for powdery notes, you may not like Bal a Versailles. But then again, this may be the one that makes you make an exception to that rule.

Like Nash, I stumbled accross this one in TJ Maxx for $12. I had never heard of it before, but as a woman who will smoke an occasional cigar and likes tobacco based scents, this caught my eye immediately. It was sealed so I couldn't test it in the store, but at that price I figured I wouldn't have lost much if I got it home and didn't like it. I agree with Ken_Russell and a couple of the other reviewers--this is a cigar evoking scent, but it isn't very complex and immediately after I sprayed it on I was a little disappointed at how cheap and obviously synthethic it smelled. This is categorized as a men's fragrance, but my usuals: Tabac Blond, Fumerie Turque and even Habinita would kick it's butt any day when it comes smouldering, smokey leatheriness.

Soft florals, amber and woods = a scent like buttery suede. This scent is a one-liner, but It was pretty enough to make me keep wanting to smell the back of my hand.

This 2' bottle of Salvador Dali (black lips) has floated around with me from various apartments and finally to my permanent home since the late 80's. Back then, I was primarily collecting perfume for the bottles. As an artist I was happy to have this bottle since I had studied Dali's work in my college art history class and knew it was his design. I had never attempted in all the time I owned it to get acquainted with the scent inside until recently. I have Basenotes and its contributors to thank for teaching me how to fully experience scents and helping me to discover the many treasures I had right under my nose if I would have just opened the bottles (vintage Jicky and Shalimar among them), dabbed some on and patiently waited.

A few weeks ago I decide to try this and was so surprised by how beautiful it is that I could have kicked myself in the head for not trying it years ago. The opening notes are very floral which I'm usually not a fan of, but this is so well done that I can more than live with it. The sillage at this point is good, so a little bit goes a long way. As it starts to dry down the flowers seem to make a rapid exit and I start getting notes of rich leather and dark tea even though these notes are not listed in any description of this perfume's composition that I've found.. Eventually the tea recedes and the leather note becomes more prominent and the scent seems to stay like this for a while, which is great because I'm crazy about leather notes. At this point it smells quite similar to the leather in Bal a Versailles. In the extreme drydown stage the tea note comes back again and that's what's left as you wake up and smell your wrist the next morning. This scent is gorgeous! My bottle is old and tiny, so my fear is that I may run out one day soon if I keep wearing it the way I have been and when I attempt to replace it, the only thing that will be available will be a, most likely, reformulated and watered down version.

Douce Amere sparkles from the moment the mist leaves the bottle and hits my wrist. This is a warm, almost nutty scent with a note that reminds me of the smell of fresh rye bread. Way into the drydown I get a kind of dry sawdust note (which is wonderful to me since I'm an artist and this is the familiar smell of my studio on occasion). There is also a note that reminds me of human sweat that I find very sensual. Through it all there is a cinnamon/nutmeg spiciness that makes this scent the perfect balance between masculine and feminine. I wasn't expecting to like this as much as I did when I ordered my first small sample (I have since ordered a larger decant), but I was hooked from the beginning. This is one of my top 4 Serge Lutens scents, along with MKK, Borneo 1834 and Un Lys. In my opinion Douce Amere is really underrated. Like its name implies, there is something beautifully melancholy and mysterious about this scent. I think it's a deceptively simple scent that wasn't meant to make a loud, assertive statement , but was meant to be quietly pondered. Definitely a romantic one in my book.

I'm not surprised this scent got such mixed reviews. It's definitely not for everyone, but it is for me. There are scents, and then there are experiences, and like Djedi, Onda and MKK, Borneo 1834 is an experience. On my skin this scent seems to be so well blended that not one note jumps out and becomes overpowering the way others have described. I get camphor, I get patchouli and I get cocoa in the beginning. While I would hardly consider this scent to be floral in any way, there does come a point in the drydown where I get what must be the "white flowers" that are listed weaving in and out. The dissonance of the notes in this scent work for reasons that can't be explained making the wearing of it more like a "happening" or performance, especially since the sillage is good. Some scents I wear to smell good, but when I'm in the mood to be entertained, I love wearing a scent like Borneo.

Personally, I don't believe in the winter scent/summer scent thing. I just think that one has to understand that you don't need to apply as much of the heavier scents in the summer. If I relegate scents to particular seasons it deprives me of all the little nuances a scent may have to offer in different seasons due to climate change and even the subtle changes our skin chemistry my go through from season to season. Some consider Borneo a winter scent, but I think the notes in it are wonderful in hot, humid weather.Serge Luten's Un Lys, is beautiful and almost demure in the winter, but she becomes a real skank on me in the summer and I love the versitility. I'm learning that I should probably test my scents in every season before I can give an accurate review of them.

I got a healthy sample of Un Lys in the process of bidding on a miniature bottle of Parfum Sacre that was offered with it on Ebay. I had pretty much dismissed Un Lys since I don't care for floral scents. In the meantime I had ordered the wax Serge Lutens sample set from France which arrived before the bottle did. I spread the sample on my wrist and was immediatly smitten. All I kept thinking was that if Un Lys could smell that wonderful in a weak wax sample, I couldn't wait to smell the actual liquid. When it arrived I was not dissappointed. I tend to go for scents that are spicy, woodsy and smokey like Tabac Blond, Habanita, Fumerie Turque, but Un Lys is giving them all some real competition. There is something creamy and hypnotic about this scent. This is exactly why I've learned to never say "never" when it comes to Serge Lutens.

UPDATE: in hot, humid weather there is an underlying skanky note that's absolutely gorgeous! Un Lys is full of surprises.

After reading a lot of information about L'air de Rien, I couldn't wait to get my hands on a sample. It sounded so mysterious and intriguiging. However, I was a little disappointed once the sample arrived and I tested it for a couple of days. L'air de Rien just didn't live up to the dramatic descriptions. I didn't dislike it because it is a very pleasant scent, full of sweet amber, vanilla, and spices with a hint of musk. On applying it I got a feeling of light airiness, and with the exception of a brief and fleeting skanky note in the vein of MKK, it never really evolved much beyond that on me. I got absolutely nothing like the "old houses, chests of drawers, smoked pipes, soiled underwear and floor polish" that this scent was supposed to evoke. I was expecting this scent to be much darker, brooding and moody like Djedi or vintage L'heure Bleue, but instead it was more like a sunny, spring meadow with an old abandoned house on a hillside off in the distance. Like I said, this is a nice scent, but it's not bottle worthy for me because it comes dangerously close to smelling just like all the other cutesy offerings that can be found at department store scent counters or Sephora.

The opening is a spicy (like cardamom, cloves, nutmeg)/boozy (rum) blast that quickly mellows into a scent that's more dry, woody and spicy with an underlying saffron note that evokes L'Artisan's Saffron Troublant. This is the stage that lasts the longest for me and as I keep smelling my wrists I'm also reminded of Donna Karan's Black Cashmere and Tea for Two, another L'Artisan. However, Idole has it's own thing going. Way into the drydown, it's all about warm, sweet, creamy woods with amber. I would like to get a leather note, but my nose doesn't seem to be picking that one up. The final stages of this are so mellow and warm that I do consider this a comfort scent and I didn't even realize that this was supposed to be for men until I went to write this review and saw that the majority of the reviewers that weighed in on it were men. I disagree. I think it's definitely a sent that can be worn by a woman as well.

I don't find the bottle design "trashy" at all. I think it's a gorgeous design that's obviously been influenced by the Art Deco period.

When I look for musk, I'm not looking for "nice" musk. Musk Ravaguer opens with a sweet warmth like candied fruits and creamy woods and stays this way throught. I don't get any notes that are remotely animalic, musky or sexual. Sillage is moderate. I guess I'm more of an MKK kind of girl. Now if you want to experience something really dirrrrrrrrrty, layer MKK with a little Onda (smile/wink).

When I first applied Djedi I got a big blast of cedarwood and vetiver. Then, after a few moments a cool medicinal note like camphor emerged. That note was very brief and as it passed the scent became only slightly warmer and drier. The next phase is where I started to understand why others have compared Vera Profomo's Onda to Djedi. There are similarities at this stage. See Quarry's review below where her husband likened Djedi to the smell of a "dirty diaper". I have to admit that in both Djedi and Onda there is a note that does evoke that smell, but why it doesn't come off as offensive to me is a mystery. It is a strange note indeed, more pronounced (and consitant) in Onda, making the scent more feral, while in Djedi that note is more refined and layered with somthing so beautiful and melancholy, there are no words to describe it. That note is where the similarities between Djedi and Onda begin and end. Where Djedi is the dark, dank basement of the castle that so many have mentioned, Onda is a hot barn on a sunny day (i mean all of this in a GOOD way). Djedi is a journey that starts out at a place that's dark and cold. Along the way there are grasses, dirt and sweat with something mysterious lurking in the shadows. If you allow it, Djedi can take you to a place deep and primal that can't be described merely by listing what notes come first or second. It can take you to a place that's deep within and primal, where words have limitations and when you reach the light at the end of that tunnel, all that's left is a faint whisper of vetiver like nothing ever happened.

Many of you may have seen this already, but here is a link for an interesting piece of writing on perfume and the human condition:

http://64.233.169.104/search?q=cache:ZnCe_MFSAOAJ:blog.seattlepi.nwsource.com/print.asp%3FentryID%3D122480+Djedi+by+guerlain&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=17&gl=us

In my sketchbook I have a list of some of my favorite words. Among them:

ELEGANT
OPULENT
BEGUILING
MELANCHOLY (Because the word looks like what it means.)
REVERIE

L'Heure Bleue embodies them all.

A couple of months back I acquired a vintage bottle of L'Heure Bleue (the one with the rosebud top). I live on an artist's budget and was a little upset with myself (at the time) for paying more than I should have for something that I figured was not really a necessity.

I don't feel that way now. After wearing L'Heure Blue several times I've discovered that it inspires me in a way that no average perfume can. For me, it evokes a state of reverie that grows from a longing for something I can't describe. Melancholy inevitably follows because the ability to fully define that "something" continues to allude me and I know that I may never know what it is...."Rosebud".

The icing on the cake was when I discovered that the name was inspired by, what has always been, my favorite time of day/evening. Sometimes, as the day starts to wind down, I put on L'Heure Bleue, pour a glass of red wine and go out on my front porch to watch the last colors of the sky as they fade.

I guess I've been spoiled by having experienced a few of the Guerlain classics (Jicky, L'Heure Bleue, Mitsouko and Salimar) in their vintage form. Because of them, the bar was set high a long time ago, not just for Guerlains, but for perfume, period. My Insolence doesn't come close to that bar. It's no better and no worse than the average scent you can find at the perfume counter of any Macy's depertment store. Just because there is a trend in perfume toward this kind of scent, doesn't mean that Guerlain should feel they have to weigh in with one. They should leave that to the clothing designers with their "of the moment" sensibilities and go back to focusing on the developement of scents that are well crafted enough to become the highly sought after classics of tomorrow. My Insolence will not be among them.

This review is for vintage Antilope. The Perfume Intelligence website lists the notes in Antilope (a floral, woody, aldehydic chypre) as: tangerine, neroli, galbanum, acacia, farnesiana, narcisssus, hyacinthe, ylang ylang, may rose, lily of the valley, oakmoss, civet, sandalwood and musk.

After the initial vintage perfume smell wears away (5-10 minutes) the scent starts out very floral and adehydic. I don't care for scents with aldehyds and ususlly steer clear of them, so obviously, I'm not a big fan of Chanel No. 5 which is what Antilope kind of reminded me of as it started to unfold. I'm also not a big fan of overly floral scents, but I waited patiently to see where it was all going. I got absolutly no tangerine. What developed was a dry, baby powdery leather that stayed for a while. Then as it dried down further, it became a skin scent that was woody and grassy (that site doesn't mention vetiver, but that's what I got) like hay with an underlying sweetness that was nice and subtle.

I agree with castorpollux, except for the leather, this scent isn't as animalic as I expected. I didn't get any musk or civet at all and was a little disappointed. If you're just looking for nice, soft leather scent, you may like this a lot.

I recently aquired a set of scents called the Salvador Dali Metal Collection. The coffret features 5 of the Dali scents in bottles with "metallic" finishes of various colors. The 5 scents are: Salvador Dali For Men (EDP), Laguna (parfum), Dalissme (parfum), Salvador for Men (EDP) and Salvador Dali (parfum). My interest in this set sprang from the fact that I had already owned one of the scents (Salvador Dali, originally in a black nose and lips bottle) for years, but had only recently tried it and fell in love with it, leading me to become curious about the other scents. When this set came up on ebay I pounced on it.

Judging from the limited reviews and information on most of these scents, I would say that they're rather obscure, but I figured I should write a review for them anyway, since the few reviews I found on this site were very helpful in me making my decision to purchase the set. I figured that my review could be helpful, along with others if someone else came upon one of these scents and wanted a few opinions before making a purchase.

The bad news first: Laguna, which is marketed as an "aquatic" women's scent is the one in the bunch that I just plain don't like. I don't even know where to begin. I'll just say that everything about it smells a little watered down, cheap, synthetic and cloying. Dalissime (also for women). With it's notes of peach, apricot and lychee, seems like a bad, watered down knock-off of Guerlain's Mitsouko. It has almost no sillage.

Salvador (for men) is not bad, but there's nothing exceptional about it either and I agree with the other reviews for it that can be found separately on this site.

Now the good news: Salvador Dali (I think it's intended for women, but it's definitely unisex as far as I'm concerned) is to die for. I already wrote and submitted a review for this that has not yet been posted, so I won't repeat myself here.

The final scent is Salvador Dali for men, which all of the reviews on this page are for. Marketed to men, I see this one as unisex as well. As you can see from the previous reviews, you'll either like this or you'll hate it. It's definitely strange and almost undefinalble. Someone mentioned the smell of blood. This may sound weird, but as I moved about this evening I caught a whiff of the scent and that's exactly what came to mind. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, just surprising and strange. Shortly after I applied it earlier today, it started smelling like something I was already familiar with. Then it hit me that this is similar in smell and strangeness to Vera Kern's "Onda" (which I also reviewed in the same review as Guerlain's Djedi that has not been posted yet). S. D. came first, but Vera Kern's Onda is much more pungent and assertive. Those of you who don't like this will probably hate Onda, which I think is wonderful.

Since this review is really for Salvador Dali for Men I'll just rate that one. I give it a thumbs up.

I have a small partial bottle of the EDT and I agree totally with Purplebird7. This is so beautiful when it first goes on, but I can't really enjoy it as much when that black pepper note kicks in. At first I was thinking that the problem may have been something in the make up of the EDT and was about to purchase a a bottle of the EDP, however, after I read Purplebird7's review it made sense that it was a pepper note that I was having a problem with. I keep wanting to push it out of the way so I can enjoy the other notes. I can respect that the perfume's creator made a creative choice to add this note, and judging from all of the positive reviews, it works for a lot of people. It just doesn't work for me.

This is a review for Bandit EDP and Parfum, but it's also an update on the review I did yesterday for Tabac Blond and Habanita. But first a story that perfume junkie/hunters everywhere can appreciate: Yesterday I had one of those "Oprah Moments" (a term sarcastically coined by my good friend after catching a show where Oprah featured guests who write books on how you can bring anything you want into your life by simply visualizing it). Well yesterday I had an Oprah moment: I had just finished writing the review for Habanita and Tabac Blond in which I said that I would do update as soon as my sample of Bandit arrived (it hasn't). Having already experienced Habanita and Tabac Blond, I was fixated on Bandit which I had yet to smell. Just then a friend called and said that she was headed down to a shop we frequent that sells vintage furniture and other miscellaneous vintage odds and ends. I asked her to look out for some old perfumes and call me if they had anything, even though I really wasn't expecting that she would find anything that I would want. About 2 hours later my friend rang me up on her cell phone from the shop. She said, "I'm holding two black bottles. They're the same, except one has a black top and the other one has a clear top. They're by a Robert (she started spelling) P-i-g-u-e-t." Silence (from disbelief) on my end for a moment. "Spell that again" I said. She does, then says, "They're called Bandit. Bill (the owner) said you can have them both for $3. apiece." I'll be right over", I said.

Sure enough, within several minutes I had my hands on a 50 ml bottle of Bandit EDP and a 30 ml bottle of the pure parfum. I put them both on immediately.

All the posts that I've read about this scent are right when they say that there can be a world of difference when it comes to the EDP and the parfum versions of this scent. On first opening the bottles, the parfum smells more green/floral while the EDP has a spicier vetiver edge. Once sprayed and dabbed on, the EDP was much more aggressive while the parfum, after an initial harsh blast, immediately became a skin scent. After about 45 minutes the parfum had settled into a smooth and dry, subtle leather scent while the EDP became slightly sweet, spicy/vanillic with a leather edge, almost gourmand on my skin.Between the two, I prefer the EDP, but as the day wore on I experimented and found that the two layered, create something even more beautiful.

As with Habanita and Tabac Blond, I am now in love with Bandit and glad I own all three. All are beautiful, dark and mysterious. But how do they compare? Like I said in my previous review, from everything that I had read before I tried it, Bandit was supposed to be the real badass. I'll admit she's a pretty assassin (Angelina Jolie in "Wanted" or "Mr. and Mrs. Smith), but if these 3 leather-clad femme fatales were walking down a dark alley together, TABAC BLOND would be the one leading the way, with either a cigarette or a cigar dangling out of the side of her mouth.

Please see my review for TABAC BLOND as I have reviewed them together.

I would love to have a vintage versions of Tabac Blond, Habanita and Bandit, but so far I've only experienced the Habanita EDT (I've had a 33 year love affair with this one ever since I discovered an ad for a sample in the back of a Vogue magazine at age 17) and the pure parfum sample of Tabac Blond that I recently aquired. Of the 3 scents previously mentioned, Bandit has the reputation of being the real badass, but I wouldn't know as I have yet to smell it (I have a sample on the way as I write this).

As with Habanita, I have fallen in love with Tabac Blond. Tabac Blond opens spicier (like lots of cloves) while Habanita moves quickly to a more dry, peachy, powdery place with the leather emerging much later. The tabacco in Tabac Blond is more evident from start to finish. Both scents are dark and mysterious, but of the two, Tabac Blond is smokier. Both are femme fatales, but while Tabac Blond lets you know right from the start that she's aiming to do you in, Habanita first seduces you with "innocent" powdery softness, drawing you closer, then she whips out her pistol.

I may edit this review once I receive my sample of Bandit.

When I first received the sample a few weeks ago and tried it, I had to scrub it off. However, I agree with foetidus: this scent has to be tested thoroughly before you can really make up your mind about it. Something compelled me to pull it out again last night. I was surprised at how differently I responded to it this time. I went to sleep smelling my wrists. In the morning the drydown was quite beautiful. I just re-applied and I am really enjoying it as I type this. This is a masculine scent, but I'm just the kind of woman who can pull it off. This is not a scent that I would wear every day, but would save it for those occasions when I want to throw people off a bit...jar their senses a little by wearing a scent that's totally unexpected on a woman. An art opening or a party would be the perfect place.

When first applied this scent smells either like some strange, pungent cheese, or like someone just got off of a spinning ride at Coney Island and vomited. The kicker is that I love this stuff, because after a few patient minutes, those initial notes pass and what emerges is the fine rich leather that this sent is supposed to be about. However, simultaneously you get something like a used ashtray and fresh human sweat note that creates a kind of biker bar atmosphere around you. By now you're probably looking at that "Thumbs up" icon to the right of this review thinking "huh?", but what ties it all together is the warm rose that weaves in and out of the leather the whole time. This scent is NOT for the shy or reserved. Male or female, you have to have a sense of humor to carry this off. It has a real personality that creates a whole performance as you wear it, featuring seedy characters making cameo appearances and all.If I had to campare it to something else, I'd say Dzing! but with black leather arm bands with metal studs and a little less underlying sweetness.

This brings to mind the old saying: "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach." I'm giggling as I write this because I have a story to help me plead my case for this scent. A smitten man recently spoiled me by taking me to Brennan's in New Orleans for the famous breakfast which included their trademark dessert "Bananas Foster" Since the dessert is prepared by your waiter right at the side of your table, you get to see the point where he douses the ingredients (ripe bananas, butter, brown sugar, etc.) with brandy (or was it rum?) and sets it aflame before pouring the piping hot mixture over French vanilla ice cream and serving you. We smiled with delight and satisfaction as we savored each spoonful (I'm going off on a romance novel tangent here, but this is all true). And as if that wasn't enough, when we finished, they brought us (compliments of the house) a single helping of the bread pudding with praline sauce and two spoons. When I first applied Sweet Oriental Dream, that day at Brennan's and all the wonderful smells created by those desserts immediately came to mind, so anybody who says that scents don't trigger memories is either lying or in denial. I KNOW that when he smells this he's going to think of that day too. This is a scent has a playful humor to it. Some scents should be vehicles for triggering memories and creating new olfactory experiences and Sweet Oriental Dream definitely does that. And, if it does nothing else it sends the signal that YOU'RE good enough to eat.

The opening: Rum and wood - I'm up to no good! There's a strange sort of dissonance among the notes (in a good way) that evokes mystery and mischief. For the most part warm spices and woods are the focus here with the rum wafting in and out. Definitely unisex but IMO it falls a little more on the masculine side and that's okay. If you want to throw sombody off balance, wear this.

The opening, for me, was all hay and pepper, very dry. A little later, warm incense and wood emerged, but didn't stay around long enough for me. It finally settled into something like pimento and orrisroot. I wanted to like this because every description of it that I'd read on perfume websites made me imagine that it would be a scent that was right up my alley, but in the end I just couldn't get into it. It stayed way too dry and distant for my tastes.

Of all the Serge Lutens I've tried, this one is the one that seems to fall firmly in the "masculine" for me. I say this because it's a wee bit too green and woodsy and never strays to far from those notes, making it as linear as most of the other men's department store scents that I don't care for. As I wore it, it did remind me of walking through a forest in the fall, smelling pine in the air and the fallen leaves and earth of the forest floor. Now, I'm not one of those girly girls, I'll wear a scent meant for a man in a minute, if I like it, but there are some things even I can't pull off. I imagine this would smell really great on some rugged outdoorsy man.

If Muscs Koublai Khan is your holy grail of musks, but either you can't afford that bell jar, or you still saving up for it, Kiehl's Original musk is great to have around in the meantime. Kiehl's isn't as full and complex as MKK, but it's beautiful none the less and comes closer to MKK then any other musk that I've experienced. Sometimes I spritz Kiehl's on one wrist and dab MKK on the other. It's nice to be able to sniff at them both all day.

Rose-centered perfumes are usually not my cup of tea. While I appreciate the smell of a rose while it's still on the bush, I don't find the smell seductive and I have no desire to smell like one. If you asked me before I sampled Sa Majeste la Rose I would have said that you had to put a gun to my head to get me to try on any scent with "Rose" in its name. However, when it comes to any scent by Serge Lutens I always keep an open mind. My thoughts on this one: A heck of a lot of rose in the beginning, but several minutes later the honey and clove emerge, bringing a creamy spicyness that balances the bitterness of the rose and I found myself smelling my wrist over and over again as the evening wore on. This isn't your grandmother's rose perfume. This is odd to the point of being both baffling and beguiling. I wouldn't say that this one is bottle worthy for me, but if someone passed me on the street wearing this, I would stop them and ask them what they're wearing.