Perfume Review – Puredistance Opardu: Exquisite Femininity

Exquisite.” That word just blew through my mind the minute I put on Opardu by the luxury niche perfume house, Puredistance. An explosion of lilac, purple and white filled my eyes, I moaned a little, and then I sprayed on some more. I barely restrained myself from putting on more than the usual, standard testing amount; I would have bathed in Opardu if it had been possible. It is, quite simply, spectacular. 

Source: Wallpapers4desktop.net

Source: Wallpapers4desktop.net

Puredistance Master Collection - Opardu

Puredistance Master Collection – Opardu

Puredistance is a small brand whose perfumes typify the luxury, elegance, and restrained richness in the best style of classic perfumery. Each of their fragrances is made by a Master Perfumer and is an extrait de parfum blended at a whopping 25-32% concentration from the finest perfume oils. Opardu for Women is no exception. In fact, it tops the numbers at 32% concentration; I can’t think of a single modern perfume that is anywhere close to that degree of pureness.

Released in 2012, Opardu was created by Annie Buzantian and is classified on Fragrantica as a “floral woody musk.” Puredistance’s description for the perfume explains both its inspiration and its overall essence:

The word OPARDU expresses a deep longing for the bygone days of dreamy opulence and true romance. Puredistance OPARDU has an instant hypnotizing effect that revives memories of love, romance and seduction. Be prepared for a perfume that will bring you back to the velvety nightlife of Paris in earlier days.

The Kees Van Dogen bouquet in the middle which served as the inspiration for Opardu. Source: Puredistance website.

The Kees Van Dogen bouquet in the middle which served as the inspiration for Opardu. Source: Puredistance website.

Central to the ‘feeling’ of OPARDU have been the expressive paintings of Kees van Dongen, in particular one of his illustrations for the book ‘PARFUMS’ by Paul Valéry, published in 1945 in a limited edition of 1000.
When Jan Ewoud Vos [the founder of Puredistance] showed this illustration of Kees Van Dongen – a rich and lush bouquet of flowers – to Annie Buzantian, the famous Master Perfumer from New York, she instantly fell in love with it. She also felt this nostalgic feeling for the early years of the last century; the golden age of perfumery.

According to Wikipedia, Kees van Dogen (1877-1968) was a 20th-century Dutch painter and one of the Expressionist Fauves (like Matisse) who “gained a reputation for his sensuous, at times garish, portraits.”

Puredistance-OPARDU-15-HROpardu definitely evokes the feel of “bygone days of dreamy opulence.” Its notes are as follows:

Tuberose absolute, gardenia, Bulgarian rose, purple lilac, carnation, jasmine absolute, heliotrope, cedar wood.

The perfume opens on my skin with a veritable feast of purple. Stunningly beautiful lilacs — something I don’t come across often in perfumery — fill the air with a sweet, heady, but airy aroma. The scent has a delicacy which can only be described as exquisite.

geishas-and-cherry-blossom-lizzy-forresterIt takes me to Japan, evoking the most willowy, delicate geisha in robes of the richest, embroidered purple silks, the merest whisper of transparent, white gauze at the base of her swan-like neck, the most feminine touch of pale pink on rosebud lips, as she walks daintily in a garden filled with the loveliest of spring blossoms and lush, velvety white flowers. There is wealth and luxury behind the notes, but also a supreme sophistication tied to endless femininity.

There is a fragility to the delicacy of Opardu, but this would be misleading. In the opening hour, Opardu is a strong scent that belongs with a woman who is confident enough to flaunt her feminine nature without fears of being seen as a simpering girl. I cannot fully explain why the perfume summons such feelings in me — but it does. This is seriously classique, haute elegance that calls back to the golden age of perfumery.

Lilacs. Source: Kootation.com

Lilacs. Source: Kootation.com

Tuberose and lush gardenia peek out behind the facade of lilacs, but there is also a sense of violets, perhaps something like the richest, most velvety African violets, unfurling their delicate richness in the night air. There is also a lovely sweetness from the jasmine absolute; while it is heady in that first hour, it never smells sour, over-ripe or plastic-y. Like everything else about the perfume, it is rich but restrained, sweet, and endlessly airy.

"Rosee Celeste" by David Graux via Art.com

“Rosee Celeste” by David Graux via Art.com

Despite the very Spring-like visuals, the scent calls to mind the richness of night-blooming flowers. And, despite the gauzy, airy feel of delicate femininity, that lushness simultaneously evokes sensuality and an almost feline sensuousness. Opardu should not be judged by the delicate surface. Underneath the robes of that prim, restrained, endlessly dainty geisha is a woman who revels in her body and in her power to seduce. And that power is almost hypnotic. Puredistance wasn’t exaggerating when they described Opardu as having “an instant hypnotizing effect that revives memories of love, romance and seduction.” You cannot stop sniffing your wrist, as you are transported back to more golden, more elegant, more refined times. Perhaps Japan of the geishas, perhaps the elegant capitals of Europe in the 1920s. Whatever it is, Opardu is simply spectacular.

Heliotrope.

Heliotrope.

As time passes, the notes change a little. At the thirty minute mark, lilacs and gardenia dominate, followed, in order, by tuberose, jasmine and rose. Those of you who are terrified of tuberose or jasmine should not worry; this is not an indolic perfume by any means. It is definitely not Fracas! Later, midway during the second hour, the perfume transforms into a very woody scent of slightly peppery cedar, conjoined with lilacs and a light musk. By the fourth hour and until the end, Opardu returns to its purple roots with soft lilac and violet overtones over a base of heliotrope. The latter has a scent between vanilla or almonds with a slightly powdery element. According to Fragrantica, heliotrope has been “proven to induce feelings of relaxation and comfort” — and I think it is definitely true here.

I love Opardu, but it is not perfect. I was enormously disappointed in the sillage which is so soft and low that Opardu was essentially a skin scent on me after the first hour. (And I sprayed on a good 3 sprays from the little sample that I had!) Even during that opening hour, it hovered maybe three inches above the skin. Afterwards, I had to bring my nose right to the skin to smell the fragrance. By the fourth hour, I actually thought it was close to gone, but Opardu has surprising persistence. Again and again, I thought it had vanished, only to be surprised when, later, I detected a sudden, noticeable patch of lilac. My notepad is covered with times and scribbles of “gone,” only to be scratched out with later times and “it’s still there!” The perfume seems to perform some sort of ghostly vanishing act, disappearing, reappearing, and so on. And all of this occurred on both occasions when I tested Opardu. I always make it very clear that I have perfume-consuming skin and endless problems with longevity, but I do not usually have problems with projection.

I found it especially frustrating in the case of Opardu because it is simply one of the best florals that I have come across in years. I cannot emphasize enough just how exquisite it is in that opening hour. The word “beautiful” does not do it any justice, and even “exquisite” may not be enough. I wasn’t as hugely enamoured by the rest of the perfume’s development which was lovely, but which didn’t reach the heights of that spectacular opening with its unbelievably delicate beauty, underlying lushness and enormous sophistication.

Kees Van Dogen - "Woman on a Sofa."

Kees Van Dogen – “Woman on a Sofa.”

Don’t mistake my meaning — Opardu is beautiful through and through, but that opening hour positively gave me whiplash in terms of just how magnificent it was. I was hypnotized, entranced, almost moaning out loud, and kept smelling my arm like someone under a spell. Thereafter, it was very pretty, but it wasn’t exquisite. I have to wonder how much the incredibly restrained sillage contributed to that feeling. Perhaps if that lilac-white flowers combination had remained as strong throughout the perfume’s development, the spell would have remained. As it was, the lightly peppered cedar and musk phase was pleasant, and the return of the lilacs at the very end made me very happy, but it was all a little too sheer and microscopic for my personal tastes.

That minimalistic sillage makes it hard for me to assess just how long it lasted on me. I actually smelled faint remnants of it on tiny patches of my arm well after 13 hours on one of my tests! Yet, that ghostly act makes me think that 8-9 hours may be a better estimate for the full perfume, as opposed to a few random, dime-sized spots here and there. I have tried to find reviews talking about Opardu’s sillage and duration on others, but I haven’t been successful. The few votes on Fragrantica seem to range all over the place for longevity, while the majority of people (3, in this case) have voted the sillage as “soft” which is the lowest ranking available. One commentator (“ladykarl“) seemed to indicate that the dry-down phase began on her after four hours:

Opardu is very beautiful as the mature ultra femme superfloral that it is. Would be lovely to the opera or an event where dressing up fine is the standard. Lilacs in the front; tuberose in the back (nice combo) The drydown is much less floral; woodsy which makes the later part of the scent (four hours in) much more laid back and well suited for regular life. If i had the right lifestyle i would definitely wear this.

Apart from the time factor, I don’t think that her brief assessment begins to do Opardu justice. I actually think one of the best assessments of the fragrance — out of the many, many positive ones out there — comes from Luckyscent itself:

Oh to be a madcap heiress, sliding through the crowd in a bias–cut satin gown and glittering pumps, a champagne cocktail in one hand and a leash leading to some exotic pet in the other. Your brows are perpetually arched as you scan the crowd for a dashing aviator or an adorably bookish professor to seduce. What scent are you wearing? Opardu, of course! Well, historically speaking, you wouldn’t be – but in the glorious art deco movie set of our minds, you are. Because Opardu is not about the past, it is about a fantasy of the past, just like our daydreams. It evokes the enchantment and glamour of a bygone era, but still feels modern.

[¶] The opening is especially evocative of another time and it is pure swank – like an expensive gift from a rich suitor, conjuring up images of mirror-topped vanities and red lipstick. This develops into an opulent floral featuring luminous gardenia, heady tuberose, piercing jasmine, and velvety rose. The mix is full and lush and there is the seductive thrum of cedar wood underneath it all. You might guess that the lilac and heliotrope would be overwhelmed by all of this and just sit off to the side and whisper to each other – but they are beautifully present, adding delicacy and charm as they put the twinkle in our saucy heroine’s eye. As the scent wears on, the more ethereal elements continue to shine and the overall effect is absolutely lovely.

For those who love soft florals and who want an unobtrusive perfume without enormous projection, then Opardu would be ideal. Even others who prefer greater sillage may be lucky and should try it — after all, I have very peculiar skin! For myself, in a perfect world where I had endless money, I would buy Opardu in a heartbeat — even with my sillage issues — because this is one scent where I would be perfectly happy to reapply every few hours simply to get that stunning, mesmerizing, hypnotic opening. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how practical that would be in reality, given the cost of the fragrance.

Opardu is not cheap but, thankfully, Puredistance has just launched a much more affordable pricing plan. All four of the brand’s perfumes now come in a 2 oz/60 ml bottle of pure parfum extract that costs $330 or €275. Previously, a full bottle of Opardu was only available in a 3.4 oz/100 ml size that cost $590, while a small 17.5 ml/ 0.59 fl. oz sized spray (essentially, a travel-sized mini) is $198.

I realise that these prices are high. But, first, let me remind you that we’re talking about pure parfum extrait at 32% — something that is almost unheard of. Second, price is a very subjective thing. Lastly, the company has done a very rare thing: it heard the whimpers about the prices for its perfumes, and made every attempt to offer a more accessible, reasonable alternative in both size and cost. My God, how rare is it for an haute-anything company — perfume, fragrance, fashion or something else — to actually listen to its consumers and offer something less expensive?

I loved Opardu’s opening. I loved it with the passion of a thousand suns. I want to be wrapped up in its cocoon forever and to have its magical tendrils weave their spell around me as I sleep. It makes me feel so stunningly beautiful and delicate; and it triggered feelings of pure joy and peacefulness. I could really rave about it morning, noon and night. Whether the rest of the perfume’s development matches that initial magic is something that is up to you to decide. If you love delicate, feminine florals, then you must try this perfume. It’s really as simple as that.

Disclosure: My small vial was provided courtesy of Puredistance. As always, I make it very clear to any company who sends me things, upfront, that there is no guarantee of a positive review, or even of a review at all. I also make it clear that I will always be completely honest about a perfume, as my first obligation is to my readers.

DETAILS:

Puredistance-2ML-SET-01-HR

The Gift Set box with its satin lining.

Cost & Availability: Opardu is available in a variety of different sizes and forms on the Puredistance website and I believe shipping is free to the U.S. (and to an EU nation). You can buy a 17.5 ml travel size spray for $198 or €168. The small bottle is 60 ml/ 2 oz and costs $330, while the large bottle is 3.4 oz/ 100 ml and costs $590. However, you can also buy Opardu as part of a sample Gift Set of four Puredistance perfumes (Opardu, I, Antonia, and M) with each sample being 2 ml. The whole set costs $59 and includes free shipping. Opardu is also available from Luckyscent in all available sizes at the same price (but without free shipping), along with a 0.7 ml sample vial for $6. In the UK, Puredistance fragrances are available at Roja Dove’s Haute Parfumerie division on the 5th floor of Harrods. Elsewhere, you can use Puredistance’s Store Locator which lists retailers from Australia and New Zealand to Austria and Russia. Surrender to Chance also sells it and prices start at $3.99 for a small 1/4 of ml vial, $7.98 for a 1/2 vial and $15.96 for 1 ml.

Perfume Review – Puredistance M: “M” for Molten Marvel

Molten lava, gold and red, coursing richly over dark rocks. An aristocratic cavalry officer’s perfectly oiled, brown leather boots, gleaming with scented oils of honey and rose. The richest amber and the darkest honey, intertwined in a kiss.

Source: Warren Photographic at WarrenPhotographic.co.uk

Source: Warren Photographic at WarrenPhotographic.co.uk

Those are the images which come to mind when I try “M” from Puredistance, a niche luxury house whose exclusive (and very costly) perfumes are made by Master Perfumers in London and New York. Puredistance M, as it is known, has an added cache: it’s made by the great Roja Dove himself.

Roja Dove. Source: The Glass Magazine.

Roja Dove. Source: The Glass Magazine.

Roja Dove is the only man in the world who bears the title, Professeur du Parfum. His legendary nose is said to be able to detect over 800 perfumes from a mere sniff. After working for almost twenty years for Guerlain, he left to pursue his own ventures which include the speciality boutique within a boutique at Harrod’s called Roja Dove Haute Parfumerie.

Roja Dove Haute Parfumerie.

Roja Dove Haute Parfumerie.

He also creates his own perfumes — some of the most highly acclaimed and admired in the world. A few years ago, he collaborated with Puredistance , a company whose perfumes typify the luxury and richness associated with his own fragrances. Each Puredistance perfume is an extrait de parfum blended at a whopping 25-32% concentration and filled with the finest perfume oils. Puredistance M for Men and Women (sometimes written as PuredistanceM) is no exception.

Puredistance-Packshot-M-01-HRReleased in 2010, Puredistance M is technically categorized on Fragrantica and elsewhere as a unisex leather perfume. All the talk about leather led me to expect a hardcore leather scent — which I’m very wary of —  so I was surprised to find “M” to be a glorious lovechild of an oakmoss chypre and an oriental that merely happened to have leather undertones. I was also relieved to see Puredistance’s own description for the perfume state pretty much the same thing:

M is inspired by the stylish comforts of the interior of a grey Aston Martin. M is a leather
chypre of classic proportions… with an unexpected oriental twist, which lends the perfume an original and modern feel.Puredistance-Metal-Perfume-Spray-Cap-01-HR

The warm smoothness of the blend is incomparable. The composition purrs softly along, weaving the leather accord into the road-map of spices, woods and resins. The chic, sensual and comforting trip takes the wearer from the leathery start to the softly-smoldering woody, balsamic base via the delicately earthy heart.

Enveloping and comforting as it is, M, with its elegantly smoky leather, has a hint of excitement and danger, which is just how it should be, in a fragrance inspired by Bond’s car.

Ingredients: Bergamot, Lemon, Rose, Jasmine, Cinnamon, Patchouli, Mosses, Cistus [Labdanum], Vetiver, Vanilla, Leather, Musk.

Puredistance M opens on my skin with a rich, unctuous, baroque mix of dark rose, labdanum, leather, jasmine, musk and a subtle dash of citrus. There is the swirling aura of leather all around, but it’s almost ephemeral at this point and nothing distinct. And, yet, there is also the faint impression of a barnyard that pops up, only to flit away after two minutes.

Rose Petal Honey. Source: Gardenista.com. (Click on photo for the website which has a DIY recipe for rose-infused honey.)

Rose Petal Honey. Source: Gardenista.com. (Click on photo for the website which has a DIY recipe for rose-infused honey.)

The rose is rich, dark, beefy and meaty; it is also slathered with the darkest honey you can imagine. The sweetness tames any zestiness of the citrus note, rendering it sweet, not sharp. There is a noticeable backdrop of oakmoss but, unlike many chypres, it is never fusty, musty or dusty. Instead of being pungently dry, the mosses are sweetened by the honey notes from the labdanum resin — it’s absolutely glorious.

Interestingly, the second time I tested Puredistance M, the oakmoss was even less noticeable in the start. Same with the citrus notes. Instead, the predominant impression was a panoply of honeyed beeswax, rich roses, dark honey and cinnamon. In fact, honeyed beeswax is such a persistent part of this perfume on both occasions that I wore it that I am convinced it is one of the hidden ingredients, along with cloves and a smidgen of cumin. I am also convinced that Puredistance is one of those perfectly blended perfumes which will reveal different facets each time you wear it.

Source: FilterForge.com

Molten Lava. Source: FilterForge.com

The combination of notes — on both occasions — lead to an overwhelming impression of molten lava: a fiery river of honeyed labdanum turned burnished red from spices and roses. The labdanum is so rich that, at times, it has a faintly burnt quality to it. In fact, during my first test, there was an impression almost of burnt wax. The predominant note, however, is of a very balsam-like resin that is as dark as possible; it’s unctuous, opaque and thick. It’s hard to describe what labdanum smells like to someone who has never smelled it but, at its core, it is far more than just an amber-y smell. It takes honey to a depth that is almost unimaginably medieval in its complex, burnished richness. At the same time, it has a subtle, almost dirty, nutty, slightly leathered edge that is never animalic but which definitely turns the whole thing into something more masculine and musky than actual honey. I love labdanum and it is the fiercely beating heart to Puredistance M, evident from start to finish, in the richest way possible.

About fifteen minutes in, the leather starts to appear. It has the feel of darkly brown, softly caramelized aged leather. There is a subtle, earthy feel to it that I suspect comes from the underpinnings of the vetiver which is never a really detectable note, in and of itself, but which is a quiet thread in the overall tapestry. I know the perfume is meant to evoke the leather seats of a luxury car and, for most people, Puredistance M does exactly that. For me, however, I imagine an aristocratic cavalry officer’s well-worn riding boots, tended to lovingly with a mix of beeswax and oils tinged with rose, honey and jasmine.

Royal Household Cavalry - HouseandCountry dot tv

This is really the smell that I expected from Chanel‘s legendary Cuir de Russie which was inspired by Tsarist imperial officers and the Russian treatment of birch leather. Instead, on my skin, Cuir de Russie was all horse feces under a heavy pile of soap. I’m in a very distinct minority on that point, but the disappointment remains the same. No Cossacks, no Imperial Grand Dukes, no passionate sensuality evoking Coco Chanel’s love affair and, most of all, no smooth, aristocratic leather.

Young Winston Churchill in uniform. Source: Imgur.com

Young Winston Churchill in uniform. Source: Imgur.com

With Puredistance M, however, the leather is pure elegance. It feels screamingly rich, covered with cognac, warmed by honey, and reddened by quiet spices. The latter start to become more evident  about thirty minutes in. Cinnamon is the most obvious note, but there is also the merest touch of cumin. It’s not the sort of sweaty-smelling cumin; it’s simply dry and a little bit earthy. I’m convinced there are also big dollops of cloves in Puredistance M, adding a little bit of fiery heat to the sweet honey and resinous labdanum.

The floral and musk accord also become more noticeable around this time. The musk is not skanky, sour, or redolent of personal intimacies. Nor is it even remotely animalic. Instead, it is quietly intertwined with the rose and the increasingly evident jasmine notes for a combination that is narcotically heady and extremely rich.

An hour in, to my surprise, Puredistance M changes quite drastically. First, it becomes significantly less opaque and thick, though it is still very strong and heady. Second, it turns from a floral oakmoss chypre with oriental elements into something that, to me, is purely orientalist in nature. The oakmoss was always a subtly blended accord in the opening, intertwined perfectly with the other notes but never dominating. Now, however, it is completely overshadowed by the growing impression of honeyed beeswax with spices and cinnamon-tinged vanilla. The floral notes are still there, however, including the increasingly noticeable jasmine note mixed with a slightly sweet dose of patchouli. Lastly, the sillage has dropped quite substantially. Where Puredistance M was evident from a few feet away in the first hour (at least, when you put on a decent-sized amount), it is now hovering just a foot above the skin.

Vintage bottle and box of Bel Ami.

Vintage bottle and box of Bel Ami.

In this first ninety minutes and during the opening stage, Puredistance M strongly reminded me of Hermès‘ classic Bel Ami in its vintage form. Bel Ami is a scent I grew up with and loved, so while I haven’t smelled it in years, it was the first thing on my mind in the opening hour of Puredistance M. In fact, I’ve read that Bel Ami is one of Roja Dove’s favorite fragrances.

Unsurprisingly, therefore, vintage Bel Ami is the scent to which most people compare Puredistance M, suggesting that you save your money on the latter and buy the Hermès instead. I don’t necessarily agree. Even if we consider the much stronger, more potent vintage version of Bel Ami (as compared to its current reformulated self), Puredistance M is still significantly richer, darker and denser, with much more labdanum and far less citrus influences. Plus, based on my memories of Bel Ami, it only explains the first ninety minutes of Puredistance and certainly doesn’t fit with its remaining development. Because, you see, at the start of the second hour, the perfume changes again and now, it is almost a dead ringer for Serge LutensCuir Mauresque!

I recently reviewed and loved Cuir Mauresque, so I was quite stunned to find its middle notes replicated here in Puredistance’s similar stage. There are differences in the notes in each perfume and Puredistance significantly lacks the animalic civet of the Lutens but, on my skin, the middle stages for both perfumes was musky jasmine, honey, and resined amber. The burnt styrax in the Lutens is mimicked here by the occasionally burnt aspect to the different sort of resinous amber, the labdanum, and both scents share a subtle, sometimes imperceptible hint of cumin and cloves — all supported on the subtle base of leather. It helps that the Lutens was never very animalic or dirty on my skin because the civet was never strong. Here, however, the real link between the two fragrances is the jasmine, musk and dark amber combination. With the oakmoss having vanished in the second hour, Puredistance has turned into a seductive floral oriental.

Bees on beeswax. Source: McDanielHoneyFarm.com

Bees on beeswax. Source: McDanielHoneyFarm.com

The final stage of Puredistance M is very simple and is no longer anything close to Cuir Mauresque. The dry-down consists almost entirely of dark, dirty labdanum amber; rich honey and beeswax; and a hint of musky vanilla hovering underneath. The amber accord is tinged by the merest breath of something earthy, but it’s as light as a feather. In its very final hour, Puredistance M evoked pure honey and nothing more. At no time in its development were some of Puredistance’s more earthy notes dominant players; both the vetiver and patchouli added some underlying support but they were barely noticeable in their own right. There was no dirtiness or rooty darkness to the scent, and never anything animalic to the leather.

Interestingly, for a perfume with such strong notes, the sillage on Puredistance was not enormous. It was evident from a few feet away for the first hour, then dropped dramatically. By the second hour, the scent hovered half a foot away from the skin. Thereafter, it became very close and you’d have to be nuzzling someone’s neck to detect it.

The sweetness and spices make Puredistance the least “butch” leather that I have ever encountered. When you throw in the prominant florals, it also becomes one of the most unisex leathers. This is nothing like the stony, cold, black leather that I experienced with Montale‘s Aoud Cuir d’Arabie or the barnyard leather of Chanel‘s Cuir de Russie. It’s also far from the bitter, green, harshness of the butch legend, Bandit by Robert Piguet, which I admired and found most intriguing but which, in hindsight, is simply too brutal for me. It certainly is not remotely close to Tom of Finland by Etat Libre d’Orange which wasn’t even leather on my skin but, rather, powdered, vanilla suede.

Puredistance M is an absolutely marvelous scent, but its steep price is enough to give one the vapors. A miniscule 17.5 ml/ 0.59 fl. oz sized spray (essentially, a travel-sized mini) is a whopping $198. The full 100 ml/ 3.4 fl oz. bottle? A stunning $590! On Luckyscent (where, to my astonishment, that $600 bottle is sold out), one reviewer makes this observation about the scent and the price:

When people say that M makes everything else obsolete, I am afraid that is very close to the truth. From the very first whiff till it fades away (up to 24 hours later), this is an experience of constant astonishment. And just as much – constant, giddy delight. Of course, I will still wear other favorites. But M inhabits that rarified air of very few others – Gobin Daude Nuit Desert and Guerlain Derby come to mind (in terms of quality, not scent). The price is initially off-putting, but the 18ml bottle is easily the equivalent of many 100ml edp’s. The very tiniest little drop last all day, into the night, and into the next morning. Like I said, constant astonishment. This is the real deal.

I don’t agree. I used far more than the tiniest little drop to test the perfume the first time around. When, on the second test, I used the smallest possible amount, the perfume faded away in sillage quite quickly, demonstrated far less complexity, and also lasted far time. On neither occasion did Puredistance M last 24 hours. That said, when I used the equivalent of one large spray, the scent lasted about 11 hours — and I should bloody well hope so for something that is concentrated extrait de parfum! But, again, it was hardly a drop, so I hardly think that the 17.5 ml bottle is “the equivalent” of many 100 ml full bottles of eau de parfum. Nonetheless, on skin which is less voracious than mine, I think the $198 travel mini might be a good compromise if you really love the scent.

[UPDATE – 3/26/13: The perfume, along with all the other fragrances in the Puredistance line is now available in a much more affordable pricing scheme. All four scents now come in a 60 ml bottle of pure parfum extract that costs $330 or €275. For the concentration and size, that is a much, much more accessible deal. You can find the new bottles on the company’s website at the link listed below in the “Details.”]

On Fragrantica, one commentator says simply to buy Bel Ami and to save your money, but I don’t fully agree with that either. Even if you buy vintage Bel Ami on eBay (where I recently saw a bottle starting at around $65), Puredistance M is a much richer affair. Though I can’t remember Bel Ami’s dry-down after all these years, what I do remember is a much more citrus-aromatic chypre which turns into leather that is nothing as sweetly resinous or honeyed as Puredistance M. A review of Bel Ami’s notes on Fragrantica supports that impression: there is no labdanum, not a lot of resin, and those amber notes which are present do not seem to be the driving heart of the perfume according to people’s votes of the main notes. Still, if that is the only financially practical alternative, then Bel Ami may be worth pursuing. (So long as you avoid the current reformulation and stick with vintage.)

My belief is that price is a very subjective thing and, if the quality is there, an outrageous price may well be worth it to a particular individual. For me, a full bottle of Puredistance M is well outside my means. To my cheapskate mind, it translates to five full bottles of Serge Lutens or Chanel. And the 0.5 oz/ 17.5 ml mini is similarly too expensive, given the microscopic size and what else I could buy. If, however, price were no object, I would absolutely buy Puredistance M. The “M” really stands for magnificent, molten masterpiece.

DETAILS:

Sample or Gift Set of four Puredistance parfums.

Sample or Gift Set of four Puredistance parfums.

Cost & Availability: Puredistance M is available in a variety of different sizes and forms on the Puredistance website. You can buy a 17.5 ml travel size spray for $198 or €168. The full bottle is 3.4 oz/ 100 ml and costs $590. [UPDATE: The perfume is now also available in a 60 ml bottle for $330 or €275.] However, you can also buy Puredistance M as part of a sample Gift Set of four Puredistance perfumes (I, Antonia, M and Opardu) with each sample being 2 ml. The whole set costs $59 and includes free shipping. Puredistance M is also available at Luckyscent in both the $198 travel size and the $590 full size, though the latter is sold out until the end of March (2013). Luckyscent also sells a 0.7 ml sample vial for $6. I obtained my sample from Surrender to Chance, where prices start at $3.99 for a miniscule 1/4 of ml vial, $7.98 for a 1/2 vial and $15.96 for 1 ml.