LM Parfums Vol d’Hirondelle

Posted on April 1, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Source: Fragrantica

The tart, refreshing briskness of citruses that turn creamy and sweet from jasmine and rose in a blend that is nestled upon a bed of woody musk– that is the essence of Vol d’Hirondelle from LM Parfums. Vol d’Hirondelle is an eau de parfum that was released in 2012, and created as a tribute to a friend of Laurent Mazzone, LM Parfums’ founder. I suspect it’s meant to be a loving gesture in memory of the Mona di Orio who was a very close friend of Laurent Mazzone and who died in late 2011. The perfume’s name means “Flight of the Swallow,” a delicate bird who I think is meant to symbolize the later perfumer.

Source: Premiere Avenue.

LM Parfums describes Vol d’Hirondelle and its notes as follows:

Inspired by a painting, Vol d’Hirondelle is a precious tribute to a close friend of Laurent Mazzone.

– Top Notes: Hespéride, Lemon, Bergamot, Mandarin, Paraguay Petitgrain, Rosewood, Davana.
– Heart Notes: Rose, Jasmine, Orange tree, spices
– Base notes: Vetiver, Musks

Source: kitchendaily.com

Vol d’Hirondelle opens on my skin with a blast of crisp, chilled citruses in a sea of yellow and green that is infused with flecks of bitter petitgrain, woodiness, vetiver, and clean musk. The perfume feels thin but extremely potent, cool and refreshing, but also clean. The tangy, green, extremely tart lemon almost verges on a lime, but is countered by a richer bergamot. There are light hints of a sweet, syrupy jasmine, a dash of apricot davana, and a smidgeon of orange. The whole thing is nestled in a very woody, twiggy embrace that is thoroughly infused with a sharp, clean musk.

Davana. Source: hermitageoils.com/davana-essential-oil

Some of the elements are very pretty. I’m a sucker for davana, which I think is sorely underused in perfumery. It is a rich, opulent flower from India that has the smell of juicy, warm, sweet apricots. Here, the note has a faintly tropical, floral feel as well which contrasts sharply with the cool, almost icy, tart lemons. Piquant, bitter, lightly peppered petitgrain weaves its way through the citruses which feel very concentrated in nature, almost as if their absolute essences were used. The jasmine adds a light touch of sweetness, but the main focal point of Vol d’Hirondelle’s opening is definitely the hesperidic notes and aromatic woodiness.

Source: merlyimpressions.co.uk

There are other aspects that I find less enchanting. I cannot stand white musk. At all. And I always think renders a perfume quite commercial in feel. Here, the note doesn’t smell soapy or cheap, so, thankfully, the combination with the lemon doesn’t evoke lemon dish washing soap, but the clean musk is still far too strong for my liking. It doesn’t help that my skin really amplifies the bloody ingredient, which is perhaps why it smells so sharp, potent, and intense in the case of Vol d’Hirondelle.

I also have to confess that neither citrus fragrances nor citrus woody musks do much for me as a general genre, so I’m not hugely enamoured by the overall combination here. It’s pleasant, and I like the davana, along with the growing sweetness from the orange, but Vol d’Hirondelle is simply not one of those fragrance categories that moves me much. Honestly, I’m blaming most of it on the white musk which is something that I simply cannot move past.

Lemon Mousse Parfait by Mary Bergfeld on One Perfect Bite blogspot. (Link to website with recipe embedded within photo.)

The perfume starts to shift a little after 5 minutes. The citruses feel warmer, heavier, and deeper, losing some of their crispness. Vol d’Hirondelle feels less thin, green and watery, more yellowed and sunny. The vetiver begins to flex its muscles, smelling both fresh and somewhat mineralized. Whispers of orange dance around, next to a tiny touch of warm rosewood, while the musk loses some of its early sharpness.

After 20 minutes, Vol d’Hirondelle turns smoother and creamier. The lemons, bergamot, and orange feel inundated with a velvety richness, probably from the tropical, lush davana mixed with the sweet jasmine. Yet, the perfume never reads as a floral scent at this stage because the citruses continue to dominate and be Vol d’Hirondelle’s main focal point. The petitgrain, vetiver, and woody notes work indirectly to anchor the tart, brisk, hesperidic elements, but they generally feel abstract on my skin and are not clearly delineated in a significant, individual manner.

The florals finally burst onto center stage at the end of the first hour. At first, it’s just a light touch of rose, but by the 90 minute mark, Vol d’Hirondelle is thoroughly imbued with a jammy, rose sweetness. In its trail is a slightly peppered, woody note that resembles cedar. The sweet, pink rose mixes with the warm citruses, bitter petitgrain, and white musk to create the dominant bouquet. In their footsteps is the sweet jasmine, a subtle spiciness, creaminess, and an abstract, amorphous woodiness.

Painting: Anastasiia Grygorieva. Source: artmajeur.com

Vol d’Hirondelle remains largely unchanged for the next few hours. The notes occasionally rearrange themselves so that some of the secondary players are more noticeable, but the perfume’s core essence never swerves from being a floral, citric musk with some woodiness. All that really happens is that the perfume turns more abstract, the notes blend into each other, everything turns a little hazy, and the sillage changes. From the start of the 3rd hour until the beginning of the 6th one, Vol d’Hirondelle’s primary note is rose infused with creamy citruses. After that point, the jasmine takes over, but the perfume is such a seamless blend that the end result really just translates to some “floral, woody musk.” In its final moments, Vol d’Hirondelle is a simple smear of creamy jasmine with some white musk.

Source: es.123rf.com

All in all, Vol d’Hirondelle lasted 10.75 hours on my skin with generally good sillage. Using 3 small sprays from an actual bottle, the perfume initially projected 3-4 inches above the skin in a very concentrated but airy, sheer bouquet. At the end of the 2nd hour, the sillage dropped half that amount. Vol d’Hirondelle was almost a skin scent at the 4.5 hour mark, but was still easy to detect and strong up close. It became a true skin scent after 5.5 hours, and remained that way until its end. When I used a smaller quantity of perfume, amounting to 3 smears from a dab bottle, Vol d’Hirondelle became a skin scent on me at the end of the 3rd hour, the sillage was softer, but the perfume lasted close to the same amount of time. Again, my skin amplifies perfumes that contain white musk, and clings onto them like mad, so you may experience a softer, lighter fragrance.

I think Vol d’Hirondelle is nice, but I find it hard to shake off the feeling that it is really an upscale version of a designer scent but with more expensive ingredients and a slightly more refined touch. I have a huge soft spot for LM Parfums, especially as it makes the scent that is my absolute favorite modern perfume in existence, Hard Leather. It is the first scent has come close to matching the instant, unbridled intensity of my reaction the first time I smelled vintage Opium. No other modern perfume has captured my heart so instantaneously in that same visceral way and to quite the same degree. And I’m mad about Sensual Orchid as well, a perfume that was my first introduction to the LM Parfums line and essentially set the bar for everything that followed.

As a result, I expect a lot from LM Parfums, but Vol d’Hirondelle is not it. I realise that is unfair and that it is partially a personal issue in this case, given my indifference to citric fragrances or floral, woody musks. Yet, there have been perfumes in both genres that I have somewhat enjoyed. I think the problem here is that Vol d’Hirondelle represented an earlier LM Parfums, one that was finding its feet as a new house and without the guiding hand of Mona di Orio who created many of its original fragrances. I think LM Parfums has a much clearer, stronger, bolder identity now with a very different sort of perfume aesthetic that suits me much better. I realise all those things, but I still think that Vol d’Hirondelle smells largely generic. A safe, nice, refined take on a designer scent, yes, and even pretty on occasion with the nice creaminess that ensues — but generic nonetheless.

Source: hdw.eweb4.com

On Fragrantica, the majority of commentators like Vol d’Hirondelle, though there are only 4 reviews in total at this time. Some of the comments, all of which come from men, are as follows:

Green,citrusy, slightly powdery,very generic. I have smelled before.

i wear it in springtime and can’t get enough of it!

reminds me of lighter version of Ververine James Heeley
rly good! man can weare it to

Painting by Jill Hackney at www.jillhackney.com

The longest assessment of Vol d’Hirondelle is a very positive review which reads:

Tried it, tested it and bought it today [.][¶] Fell in love with the brand this summer. Really wanted the Sensual Orchid One but at £195 way over my budget. (worth every penny though)

This one is a fresher yet dense and complex concotion of all kinds of citrus fruits, rosewood, vetiver and that green petitgrain. Very nice rose note in there as well.

To me probably the best citrus themed fragrance that has an unusual and exotic complexity that is hard to achieve with a construction of citrus.

Superb and long-lasting. Not too heavy and not flighty either.

A brilliant and very exclusive product that very few people wear.

For the fragrance lover that is hard to impress.

Eh, we shall have to agree to disagree on a lot of that. From his entire review, the only sentiment with which I fully concur is that Sensual Orchid is fantastic and worth every penny.

Source: backdropsforyourlife.wordpress.com

On the other hand, Vol d’Hirondelle is a much easier, more approachable fragrance than many in the LM Parfums line. It is safer because it is largely generic, and not as interesting, bold, or intense. It lacks the quirky uniqueness of something like Patchouly Boheme; the ripely opulent, over-the-top, tropical and boozy headiness of Sensual Orchid; the unusual bites or contrasts of Ambre Muscadin. It’s hardly as refined, smooth, or expensive-smelling as Black Oud. And it’s in a completely different galaxy entirely from Hard Leather.

Vol d’Hirondelle is more wearable on a daily basis than all of those perfumes. It is one of those scents that may be perfect for Spring, if you’re looking for something simple, uncomplicated, or pleasantly pretty. If you love citrus scents that are infused with florals or basic floral woody musks, this would qualify. Vol d’Hirondelle is generally unisex for the most part, though the more floral stage skews slightly into feminine territory, in my opinion. Obviously, however, there are men on Fragrantica who think otherwise.

If you want something pleasant, give Vol d’Hirondelle a sniff.

Disclosure: Perfume provided courtesy of LM Parfums. That did not impact this review. I do not do paid reviews, my opinions are my own, and my first obligation is honesty to my readers.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Vol d’Hirondelle is an eau de parfum that is available only in a 100 ml/3.4 oz bottle which costs $175, €135, or £135. In the U.S.: LM Parfums is exclusive to Osswald NYC. They currently have Vol d’Hirondelle in stock but, if, at some point in the future, the link doesn’t work, it’s because Osswald takes down a perfume’s page when they’re temporarily out, then puts it back up later. Outside the U.S.: you can buy Vol d’Hirondelle directly from LM Parfums. In addition, they offer large decant samples of all LM Parfums eau de parfums which are priced at €14 for 5 ml size. LM Parfums also owns Premiere Avenue which sells both Vol d’Hirondelle and the 5 ml decant. It ships worldwide. In the UK, the LM Parfums line is exclusive to Harvey Nichols. They sell Vol d’Hirondelle for £135. In Paris, LM Parfums are sold at Jovoy. In the Netherlands, you can find Vol d’Hirondelle at ParfuMaria. The LM Parfums line is also available at Silks Cosmetics. In Germany, First in Fragrance has Vol d’Hirondelle for €125, along with the full LM Parfums line, and sells samples as well. You can also find LM Parfums at Essenza Nobile, and Italy’s Alla Violetta. In the Middle East, I found most of the LM Parfums line at the UAE’s Souq perfume site. For all other countries, you can find a vendor near you from Switzerland to Belgium, Lithuania, Russia, Romania, Croatia, Azerbaijan, and more, by using the LM Parfums Partner listing. Laurent Mazzone or LM Parfums fragrances are widely available throughout Europe, and many of those sites sell samples as well. Samples: A number of the sites listed above offer vials for sale. In the U.S., none of the decanting sites carry LM Parfums, but Osswald NYC has a special deal for U.S. customers if you call (212) 625-3111. Any 10 samples of any 10 fragrances in 1 ml vials is $20 with free shipping. You can try the LM Parfums line that way.

Tauer Perfumes Eau d’Epices

Posted on March 31, 2014 by Kafkaesque

An ode to orange blossom, done the Tauer way: dusted with spices, smoked with frankincense, turned black and rubbery with elevated indoles, sweetened with candy, and infused with amber. That’s Eau d’Epices (sometimes called L’Eau d’Epices or No. 12 – L’Eau d’Épices) an eau de parfum from Tauer Perfumes.

Photo: Hypoluxe.

Eau d’Epices was originally released in 2010 and has just been re-released. I’ve sought specific clarification on the timeline of events, and whether the sample I received was from a new batch or formula. I’ve been repeatedly assured that it is not. According to Hypoluxe, Tauer’s American distributor, Andy Tauer created one batch of Eau d’Epices in 2010 which sold out by 2012. He held off on creating more to see how customers responded to the scent, and only recently decided to create more. So, again, the formula is said to be identical, and there should be no question of batch variations.

Orange Blossom. Photo: GardenPictures via Zuoda.net

The press release for Eau d’Epices describes the perfume as follows:

One of Tauer’s favorite naturals, orange blossoms absolute, plays a central role in this scent that is unique and original. Natural oils from spices orchestrate an opening that is vibrant, and warm. Red mandarin softens the spices and prepare for the orange blossoms that bloom in l’eau d’épices together with another white flower: Jasmin. Frankincense essential oil leads over to a classical Tauer base chord featuring ambergris, tonka, hints of vetiver and the woody warm perfume of cistus ladaniferus resin, resembling a walk in a pineta.

HEAD NOTES
An Indian basket of spices with cinnamon, cardamom, clove and corriander with red mandarines.
HEART NOTES
An opulent heart of orange blossom, jasmine, orris root and incense.
BODY NOTES
A woody cistus ladaniferus resin, softened with ambergris, tonka beans and vetiver.

I tested Eau d’Epices twice, using different quantities and experienced two very different opening phases. The perfume eventually ended up in the same place, but the focal point was quite different in each test, especially in the beginning.

VERSION ONE:

Smarties. Source: imgarcade.com

The first time, I used 2 small sprays from my atomizer, and the dominant aroma on my skin was candy sweets. Specifically, Sweet Tarts (or SweeTarts) and Smarties, with a touch of the exploding, fizzy Pop Rocks. All the candies have a very sweet aroma that is powdered. Here, however, the Sweet Tarts of Eau d’Epices’ start was also accompanied by a brief lemony touch from the coriander and a hint of red fruits (more like berries). Hot on their heels was jasmine, sticky orange, flickers of vetiver, a whisper of orange blossom, and dark spices, all on an amber base.

SweeTarts candies via Wikipedia.

The jasmine’s initial burst quickly receded, leaving a bouquet that was almost entirely Sweet Tarts with orange sherbet that had been dusted with cinnamon. There were tiny pinches of cardamom and cloves, but the cinnamon ruled them both on my skin. The orange blossom never really showed up as a floral note the way one normally encounters it, and the frankincense was barely perceptible. The whole thing was extremely sweet, but also playful and whimsical in a fun way.

Source: itsybitsyfoodies.com

For the first hour, the cinnamon orange sherbet and powdered Sweet Tarts ruled almost unimpeded by the other notes. Then, the spice bouquet became stronger, with the clove slowly creeping to the foreground. Much more significant was the vetiver which, on my skin, often manifests a minty freshness. It did so here with Eau d’Epices, too. As the vetiver swirled into the syrupy sweetness of the fruity sherbet, it felt almost candied in a way that was quite enjoyable.

About 2.5 hours in, Eau d’Epices starts to shift more dramatically. My skin often amplified or clings onto vetiver, and Eau d’Epices was no exception. The vetiver begins to take over the dominant position, trailed by the spice-dusted orange sherbet, the candied notes and the amber. The candy feels almost more like Cinnamon Red Hots now, instead of Sweet Tarts but there is still a powdered quality to the note. (It’s undoubtedly from the orris.) Slowly, slowly, the amber rises to the surface, and Eau d’Epices begins to turn into a scent that is labdanum amber with minty vetiver. The perfume feels simultaneously resinous, candied, sweet, and dusted with spices.

Photo: My own.

At the start of the 5th hour, Eau d’Epices is a highly blended scent that is largely dominated by the “Tauerade” signature base. That particular accord is quite identifiable, as it always features a darkly resinous amber which is simultaneously somewhat woody, sharp, smoky, and sweet.

Here, it is infused with vetiver and cinnamon candies. Again, my skin has a tendency to bring out vetiver to an unusual degree, and to cling onto it like mad, especially if it is Haitian vetiver with its minty undertones. You may not necessarily experience the same thing. At Eau d’Epices’ edges are lingering whispers of orange sherbet, but they fade away entirely as the hours pass. By the end of the 7th hour, Eau d’Epices is a whisper of resinous Tauerade with vetiver and a light sprinkling of tonka powder. In its final moments, the perfume is merely a blur of Tauerade amber.

All in all, Eau d’Epices lasted just short of 10.75 hours on me during the first test with 2 small sprays from my atomizer. The perfume was always incredibly concentrated in feel and potent, especially up close. Eau d’Epices only turned into a skin scent on me at the start of the 4th hour, but it was still easily detectable without much effort until the 8th hour.

VERSION TWO:

Photo: My own.

The second time I tested Eau d’Epices, I applied 4 sprays from my atomizer, amounting to 2 proper sprays from an actual bottle. The result was something that I think was much more true to what Eau d’Epices is meant to be, as it was a scent that was fully dominated by orange blossoms.

My second test of Eau d’Epices opened with orange blossoms and orange, followed by sticky resins, loads of cinnamon, sweetened powder, and hints of both cloves and lemony coriander. The perfume again smelled of Sweet Tarts and candy, but the orange blossom was only inches away this time and soon took over completely. It was very sharp, fresh, and indolic with a blackened heart of sticky resins and smoky leather. Frankincense swirled all around, and it too had a sharp bite that contrasted quite deeply with the candied feel.

This version of Eau d’Epices was powerfully indolic. Indoles are put out by white flowers like orange blossom as a signal to bees and, in their most undiluted form, can smell either rubbery, mentholated, fecal, a little urinous, plasticky, or like mothballs. Here, with Eau d’Epices, the indoles smell exactly like mothballs — something I’ve only experienced once before with a scent that used a lot of absolutes and that barely diluted the indolic element. At the same time, there is a very mentholated tonality to Eau d’Epices that almost fizzes. Something about the perfume’s opening feels as if actual menthol was used in the way that it was with YSL‘s vintage Champagne (Yvresse), though the fizziness here tickles the nose far more than in that fruity floriental.

Source: Forwallpaper.com

Eau d’Epices shifts after 5 minutes. Hints of jasmine appear, weaving throughout the top notes and adding even more sweetness to the bouquet. The cloves and cinnamon grow stronger, while the coriander and cardamom retreat to the sidelines. As a whole, the spices feel much less dominant in this version of Eau d’Epices, while the florals and frankincense are significantly more powerful. The impression of orange sherbet and Sweet Tarts is significantly less prominent this time around, as well.

Photo: Huffington post

As a whole, Eau d’Epices is a very sharp, smoky, blackened, candied and syrupy floral bouquet dominated by orange blossom. It is thoroughly infused by mothball-like indoles on the top, with smoky, rubbery, almost leathered, smoky nuances underneath. The smokiness is further amplified by the sharp frankincense, and then the whole thing is dusted with cloves and cinnamon. It’s a powerful, massive bouquet that initially projects 5-6 inches with the 4 atomizer sprays.

Eau d’Epices changes over the next few hours, but only incrementally. The vetiver becomes prominent at the end of the first hour, weaving its way throughout the orange blossom. The latter is so rich, it feels almost boozy at times. At the start of the second hour, Eau d’Epices turns noticeably warmer and deeper, as the amber slowly begins to rise from the base. The flowers lose that menthol fizziness, though much of their indolic blackness remains. As a whole, Eau d’Epices is more powerfully floral, with only a little sweet sherbet; the spices seem stronger; and the perfume feels more golden in hue.

By the end of the 4th hour, Eau d’Epices is a bouquet of vetiver and indolic, mentholated orange blossom, followed by sharp incense, sweet jasmine, hints of sweetened candy powder, and cinnamon over a sticky, woody amber base. The perfume feels sharp and rough, but also soft, and it hovers an inch above the skin.

Eau d’Epices’ core bouquet remains unchanged for hours and hours, shifting only in the prominence and order of its notes. The jasmine retreats to the sidelines; the spices turn nebulous and abstract; the frankincense feels stronger; and the vetiver takes over center stage with the orange blossom. The sharp, woody, smoky, Tauerade ambered base looks on from the wings, but it joins the two leading players at the end of the 8th hour. Eau d’Epices turns into a simple triptych of orange blossom, vetiver, and Tauerade.

Photo by Jianwei Yang, I think. Source: bhwords.com

It remains that way for hours, merely growing more nebulous and abstract, until it fades away entirely in a blur of woody-smoked-amber lightly flecked with vetiver. All in all, Eau d’Epices lasted 14.5 hours with the equivalent of 2 proper sprays from a bottle. As a side note, that quantity of Eau d’Epices created a bouquet that was so concentrated and strong, it was almost too much so for me — and I love potent scents. So you may want to go easy on the application.

ALL IN ALL:

I’ve read in a few places that Eau d’Epices is supposed to be a “love it/hate it” scent, but I don’t feel either emotion. I don’t like it, but I certainly don’t hate it. I simply got tired of Eau d’Epices’ indolic bombast and overall untrammelled intensity. I blame my own skin for much of that, as it always amplifies base notes. (It also seems to take vetiver to ridiculous extremes.)

Photo: My own.

For the most part, though, Eau d’Epices simply perplexes me. It’s really not what I expected. Given the name and the description of the notes, I had expected “a spice basket,” but ended up instead with Sweet Tarts and orange sherbet, or with mothball orange blossoms, sharp incense and minty vetiver. I really dislike the mothball aspect of the indoles, and that turned out to be my greatest issue, along with Eau d’Epices’ overall sharpness. Even the Tauerade base to both versions felt too sharp and raw for me, unlike that which I’ve experienced in other Tauer orientals. Jeffrey Dame of Hypoluxe tried to tell me that the sample I received had been freshly prepared 30 days ago, so the perfume may not have settled and continued to be very fresh. Perhaps.

On Fragrantica, reviews are mixed for Eau d’Epices. I was interested to read the most recent review from just a few days ago which says that the perfume smells “rough”:

Amouage Reflection Man meets Mrs. Dash. I’d say it’s a match made in Heaven, but it smells rough.

Mark Rothko, “Untitled (Violet, Black, Orange, Yellow on White and Red),” 1949.

I have to agree, but another chap wrote a veritable paean to Eau d’Epices just a week before with which I also agree to some extent:

One of the most-brilliant compositions I have ever smelt! Definitely orange-blossom dominates (with a hint of tuberose?), but it is bent and molded into something quite-different and unexpected with an overlay of spices (Ceylon cinnamon is, to my nose, strongest, followed by cloves, and then coriander seed), while the lower, “wood-like” facets of the flower’s essential oil are entwined like loving roots into vetiver and frankincense- it is hard to find where orange-blossom begins and ends, it is that well-married… I also sense a hint of linden-blossom bonding quite well with the “green-grassiness” of vetiver, expanding, diluting the sweet nature of the white-floral heart.

The effect is striking, with a definite character of its own. It reminds me a little of ‘Poeme’, but is not so “round and soft”: there is a “masculine”, assertive edge to Eau d’Epices- despite it’s strong floral character- which makes it, in my opinion, fairly unisex… and, also, quite oriental. Anyone with a modest attar-collection would probably not be shocked so much by this fragrance, but I can see many women of mainstream-western taste being put off by the rich, resin-backed spiciness, and just as many men being put off by the bold use of a sweet white floral. It toys with gender. It is not a crowd-pleaser by any means; it retains its unapologetic integrity throughout its long evaporation, and could be a strong, unmistakeable signature for a self-assured person.

I think he’s right a lot of points, even if we feel differently about the overall effect. The orange blossom is indeed well-married and thoroughly blended into all the other notes, and Eau d’Epices is an unapologetically dark, spicy, very unisex blend that may appeal to those who love very concentrated fragrances.

For one woman on Fragrantica, the dark, resinous base was not the problem so much as the spices:

It sprayed on with promise, a number of sharp notes appeared initially and then it dried down to a yoga studio/head shop type scent on my skin. From there eau d’epices developed into a really cloying mix of overly sweet spices. I ultimately had to scrub it and spend some time outside in a cool breeze to clear my nose.

Photo: David Hare via open.za

For The Non-Blonde, however, the spices in Eau d’Epices created a scent that was “gorgeous.” Her 2010 review begins by noting how there is no cumin in the scent, then states:

Now that we established that Eau d’Epices is not Tauer’s answer to Arabie and its back alleys of the Souk, let’s talk about what it is (other than gorgeous). This is a classic Tauer in the sense of offering the familiar Tauerade accord in the dry-down: a balsamic cistus, ambergris and a dry woody thing in the background, but the potent potion is less assertive at first and gives a lot of breathing room both to the spicy opening and to the incredibly sensual floral heart. Eau d”epices is breathtakingly complex and requires a lot of attention the first few times you smell it. The fragrance takes you on an exotic journey and fills your mind with all kinds of Arabian Nights imagery[….][¶]

The thing is that once you make friends with this colorful vision, Eau d’Epice becomes warm easy to wear. Yes, one must love incense and spice, not to mention the Tauer accord, but if you do, this masterfully crafted and blended perfume is a must-try for both men and women.

To that list of requirements, I would also add “very indolic white florals.” Yes, you have to love both the Tauerade signature base and a lot of spices, but the core of Eau d’Epices is the orange blossom absolute — in all of its manifestations. And that includes indoles. Even if you don’t experience the mothball note, you are likely to face one (or more) of its other characteristics.

So, give Eau d’Epices a try if you love orange blossoms, spices, incense, and dark resinous Orientals.

Disclosure: Perfume courtesy of Hypoluxe, the U.S. distributor for Tauer Perfumes. That did not influence this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Eau d’Epices is an eau de parfum that only comes in 50 ml bottle and costs $135, £92, or around €105. At the time of this post, the Tauer website is currently under maintenance or updating for a week, so I can’t link you to his e-store. In the U.S.: Eau d’Epices is available for pre-order with April shipping from Luckyscent. At MinNY, the perfume should be in stock by 3/31, so the website listing will probably change soon from the current “special order” status. Another option is Portland’s The Perfume House which already has Eau d’Epices in stock. Outside the U.S.: The new Canadian carrier for Tauer Perfumes is Indiescents, though Eau d’Epices is not yet listed on their website. That should change at the beginning of April. For most of Europe, you can purchase Tauer fragrances directly from the company, along with samples, Discovery sets and the 15 ml 3-piece mini collection, but the website is down right now. Elsewhere, Essenza Nobile and First in Fragrance currently have Eau d’Epices for €105, though bottles are probably from the original release. In the U.K., Scent & Sensibility is the exclusive retailer for Tauer Perfumes, and offers Eau d’Epices for pre-order at £92 with delivery to follow at the end of April. Samples: Surrender to Chance had Eau d’Epices starting at $3.99 for a 1/2 ml vial, but a reader told me that they are sold out of their old bottle at this time.

Yosh Konig

Posted on March 30, 2014 by Kafkaesque

At the heart of a vetiver forest, there is a campfire whose smoke swirls into air made crisp with a hint of red apples and dark with flecks of black leather. It’s a forest named after the king, or Konig, and it is the latest creation from the San Francisco perfumer, Yosh.

Konig via Luckyscent.

Konig is an eau de parfum released in 2013 and created by Yosh’s founder and nose, Yosh Han. Her website describes the perfume and its inspiration as follows:

An homage to the king within, perfumer Yosh Han, introduces KÖNIG, a dark charismatic elixir fit for royals of yesterday and mortals of today. KÖNIG takes us to a deep, black Bavarian forest during the time of medieval kings.

This elegant masculine scent captures the dual nature of man – gentleman and hunter, an alpine fragrance that evokes a king on a hunt, racing through the Bavarian forest with aromatic bitters and crisp red apples in the air. Beneath a layer of snow flowers, it opens into a white musc and deepens into the scent of saddle leather and smoky firewood.

[Notes:] Aromatic bitters, sage, cypress, apple, smoky papyrus, snow flowers, bois d’landes, vetiver, white musc, saddle leather, amber, firewood

Snowdrops via missouribotanicalgarden.org

Fragrantica gives the following perfume pyramid:

Top notes are sage and cypress; middle notes are red apple, papyrus, snowdrops and woody notes; base notes are vetiver, white musk, leather, amber and woody notes.

In case you’re wondering, “snowdrops” are not clumps of snow. According to Fragrantica, they are very pretty white flowers (Galanthus nivalis) that have a cool, fresh, floral note. As for “Bois d’landes,” I’m afraid I have no clue what that might be, and my Google searches turned up nothing.

“Novemthree” by Olaf Marshall. Source: vitaignescorpuslignum.blogspot.com

Konig opens on my skin with smoky vetiver, cedar, smoke, papyrus, and tinges of apple. It is a thin, sheer, light, but potent bouquet really centered around smoky vetiver with the campfire smoke of singed woods. Birch has to be one of the unspecified “woody notes” mentioned on Fragrantica, or perhaps it is that “bois d’landes.” The bouquet is supplemented by a light herbal hint, and a trace of a synthetic “woody amber” note that smells, to me, like Ambermax, though it could be any one of a number of woody-amber aromachemicals on the market. The apple is extremely muffled on my skin, and turns into faint impression of a vaguely fruited sweetness after a few minutes on my skin.

As a whole, Konig feels mostly like a sheer mélange of dark, smoked vetiver and various singed woods, all infused with birch campfire smoke on a base that is lightly flecked by a nebulous sweetness and an amber aromachemical. It has very soft sillage that radiates out about 2 inches with 4 large smears, and only 1 inch with half that amount.

After 5 minutes, the perfume shifts a little. The tiniest flicker of leather appears. It’s a subset of the birch, another aspect separate from that campfire smokiness. It evokes images of black leather, and feels both rubbery and a little bit raw. The woody-amber aromachemical grows stronger, but it never drowns out the smoky vetiver or the birch in the perfume’s opening hour. The ghostly suggestion of apple darts in and out of the dark notes, only occasionally reading as “apple” instead of a nebulous sweet fruit. I don’t detect the snowdrops or anything floral at all.

Source: hqdesktop.net

Konig really doesn’t change much on my skin. At best, the notes rearrange themselves in terms of their order and prominence. The one noticeable difference occurs after the end of the first hour when the vetiver starts to manifest a fresher undertone that is minty, like a touch of bright greenness amidst the dark smokiness. The aromachemical “woody-amber” simply continues to grow stronger, taking on an ISO E Super-like undertone that is a bit antiseptic and like rubbing alcohol on my skin. (It is the main reason why I’m guessing the note is Ambermax, as I’ve experienced that peppered, antiseptic, half-cedar, half-amber, ISO E-like woodiness before in a fragrance that I was informed contained Ambermax.) The sillage hovers just above the skin at the end of the 1st hour, the suggestion of sweetness fades away, and Konig feels even gauzier.

The notes continue to rearrange themselves as time goes on. At the start of the 3rd hour, the birch is now much less prominent, and its lingering traces center on campfire smoke, not leather. The woody-amber note takes over almost completely, and infuses the smoky (but also slightly minty) vetiver from head to toe. The two elements become the main focal point of Konig for the next few hours.

“Gold smoke” by etafaz on deviantART.

At the start of the 7th hour, Konig feels like a blur of woody-amber that is almost about to vanish. Yet, my skin clings onto aroma-chemicals tenaciously, and Konig is no exception. The drydown is quite pretty, feeling like a slightly smoother, softer coating of amber, without some of the earlier sharpness and medicinal undertones. In its final moments, Konig is a mere suggestion of amber lightly flecked by woodiness. All in all, Konig lasted just short of 10.75 hours on my skin.

Encre Noire. Source: perfumelegant.com

There are mixed reviews for Konig out there. On Fragrantica and elsewhere, a lot of people think Konig is like Encre Noire with a touch of apples. I haven’t tried the Lalique fragrance which I know is a vetiver scent with a massive amount of ISO E Super, but I can understand why people might see a connection. Some of the Fragrantica posters write:

This is Encre Noire with leather. Same Elmer’s glue smell with a super dry woody note. I’m surprised that people see it differently. Longevity is 4 hours, sillage is moderate, replay value also moderate thus making the perfume somewhat forgettable. I have come to the conclusion that Yosh will never top her best creation of Sombre Negra.

I get a lot of cypress in this. To my nose, it’s basically Encre Noire (current formulation) with apple note. Moderate projection and longevity on my skin.

On my skin I really like the play between the leather, vetiver and cypress in this. They’re blended in a way that gives a harmonious smokey/dark accord whilst at the same time being easily singled out from each other. After a minute or so the apple, papyrus and sage come through and lay themselves over the leather and woods; lessening the smoke vibe and leaving a faint floral/fruity/woody quality. 30 minutes in and what’s left on my skin is competing notes of dry apples, vetiver and leather.

On Luckyscent, the two comments for Konig both express disappointment over a medicinal aroma:

Medicinal and balmy, resembling the smell of sterile first aid gauze. Not terrible smelling, but not good at all.

I agree – highly medicinal at first. Literally smells like a potent band-aid. Once that wears off (takes about an hour on my skin), you’re left with a slightly fruity, leathery skin scent. Eh. Not in love with it.

On Basenotes, there is a whole thread expressing disappointment with Konig. Again, the issue of Encre Noire comes up often. Numerous commentators state that Konig is not bad, but it falls short of expectations. One chap who is actually from Bavaria wrote:

I received a sample and to be honest I am disappointed. I expected something truly outstanding, I mean it’s not bad, but simply not what I expected. […][¶] “König” smells a bit like “Encre Noire” with some apples. The apple-note is not sweet, it’s more like those green and refreshing apples, so it actually adds some coolness and freshness to the scent. It has a nice dry and smoky wood-note, but also like “Encre Noire” this synthetic smelling so-called “White Musk” which I dislike and I think there is also a hefty dose of Iso E Super in it. It has sharper edges than “Encre Noire” and it smells a bit more natural, but is still quite synthetic.

All in all it’s okay but nothing groundbreaking.

The medicinal or ISO E Super-like element is repeated by others in that thread, as well:

Count me among the disappointed. I am a big Sombre Negre fan and had high hopes. To me there is something like a cypress/Iso E Super accord (reminds me somehow of Terre d’Hermes) laid over burnt wood. I’m fine with weird juxtapositions, but this does not work for me. Also seems weak and short-lived. Took 5 or 6 sprays to the chest and gone within a few hours.

For me it comes off as medicinal and balmy early, resembling sterilized first aid gauze right out of its pouch. All this with some slightly citric tart apple at the open slowly adding in leathery vetiver-driven woods late. The early developing medicinal aspect just does not work for me at all. Not a good one, IMO.

As regular readers know, I have great problems with aromachemicals, perhaps because my skin amplifies them and makes them last for an eternity. However, even I could manage the one in Konig, as it was hardly as excessive or dominant as other fragrances that I’ve tried. My main difficulty with Konig was something else: I simply don’t enjoy vetiver soliflores. Vetiver is wonderful as one element in a multi-faceted bouquet, but fragrances centered almost purely on the note aren’t really my thing. I also didn’t like Konig’s sheerness and thinness, though I kept thinking that it would be a great summer scent for someone who wants a light vetiver with smokiness.

A lot of the comments quoted above are very fair in their assessment of the fragrance, but I think it’s going to come down to personal tastes. More importantly, I think it’s going to come down to expectations. Konig is simple, straightforward, and uncomplicated, but it’s not a bad scent by any means. The problem seems to be that everyone expected Konig to be as rich, nuanced, and deep as Sombra Negra. It’s not.

If you’re a passionate lover of vetiver fragrances, you may want to give Konig a sniff. If you don’t have strong expectations for a deeply leathered scent, if you don’t anticipate a lot of apples, and if you don’t hope for something analogous to Sombra Negra, then you may enjoy Konig as an easy, campfire, smoky vetiver for very hot months when you don’t want a very heavy fragrance.

Disclosure: Perfume courtesy of Yosh. That did not influence this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Konig is an eau de parfum that only comes in 50 ml bottle and costs $130 or €130. The Yosh website does not have an e-store. In the U.S.: you can buy Konig from Luckyscent, and that is the one place where you’re guaranteed and certain to get this current version. Konig is also sold at Barney’s (which states that it is their exclusive). Outside the U.S.: In Canada, Yosh is carried at The Perfume Shoppe, which has Konig listed for what may be CAD$130. In the UK, I couldn’t find a retailer. In Paris, you can find Yosh at Colette, but I don’t see Konig listed on their e-shop. First in Fragrance sells Konig for €130, as does Essenza Nobile. In the Netherlands, Konig is available at ParfuMaria, and the Perfume Lounge carries the Yosh line as well. In Dubai, Yosh is carried exclusively at Saks Fifth Avenue. In Russia, I think it’s available at iPerfume, but the Cyrillic translation doesn’t make it totally clear to me. For all other locations, you can look up a vendor near you on the Yosh website. It’s not easy to navigate and does not have separate pages, so I cannot give a specific link directly to their Stockist page, but they list a few retailers from Belgium, Italy and Germany, to a handful in Asia. Samples: You can obtain a sample from Luckyscent. Surrender to Chance does not have Yosh fragrances, so another alternative is The Perfumed Court which sells Konig starting at $3.99 for a 1/2 ml vial.

DSH Perfumes Euphorisme d’Opium (The YSL Retrospective Collection)

Posted on March 28, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Natalie Portman by Mert & Marcus for W magazine, 2006. Source: photochronograph.ru

The Goddess now has a daughter. The ferocious, untamed, raw sexuality of vintage Opium has been handed down to a more restrained, less overtly voluptuous, quieter girl called Euphorisme d’Opium. She may be less bold, less likely to take your head off with fiery roar, but my response is: “Come to mama.” Actually, that was one of the ways that I wanted to open this review, since it was only slightly less inelegant than simply telling the legion of Opium fans to just get out their credit card. But get out your credit card. If you’re one of the many in the Opium cult, one of those who has mourned the passing of the “Bitch Goddess” (to use a friend of mine’s loving description for the YSL classic), then this is the time to rejoice. Euphorisme d’Opium from DSH Perfumes is as close as we’re going to get to reinvention of the Queen. She finally has a daughter.

Photo: Mert & Marcus for Interview Magazine.

There is nothing in the world like vintage Opium. Nothing. And there never will be. That needs to be stated right at the start. Absolutely nothing can or will ever replicate the precise beauty of that monster powerhouse down to a T. The reasons are simple, starting primarily with the scarcity of Mysore sandalwood which might as well be extinct for anyone not possessing massive financial resources. Modern IFRA regulations on eugenol, ceiling limitations on the quantities of various other ingredients, and the issue of animal musk are other supporting factors as well. Yet, to the extent that an olfactory daughter may be possible, Dawn Spencer Hurwitz of DSH Perfumes has done it.

Opium Den photo series for Interview Magazine by Mert & Marcus.

It’s not something I say lightly. Regular readers know that vintage Opium is my absolute favorite fragrance, and that I despise the modern monstrosity that purports to bear its name. Modern “Opium” is a castrati, a disemboweled, emasculated eunuch, and a utter travesty. (L’Oreal, you should be ashamed of yourselves, you despicable, parasitic vultures.) If anything, I’m likely to be much tougher on attempts to seize The Goddess’ mantle. If they fall short, you can be sure that I would rip it apart. No-one messes with my beloved Opium, and lives to tell the tale.

Dawn Spencer Hurwitz. Source: The Perfume Magazine.

To take on a reinvention of Opium is a very tall order. Apart from technical difficulties involving the ingredient restrictions, it probably cannot be done unless you have a deep love and understanding of who Yves St. Laurent was himself. The Indie, artisanal perfumer, Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, has that in spades, and it clearly shows. Euphorisme d’Opium is part of her YSL Retrospective Collection for the Denver Art Museum that I talked about in my review for Le Smoking. The latter is a gloriously beautiful fragrance that captures the very essence of what The Maestro was trying to do with his revolutionary, gender-bending jackets. And she’s done the same thing in capturing the essence, heart, and character of his Opium as well.

Euphorisme d’Opium in pure parfum and in an antique bottle. Source: DSH Parfums website.

The DSH website describes Euphorisme d’Opium as follows:

The original “YSL Opium” perfume, when launched was a scandal. Not only for the open drug reference but for it’s open sexuality and sensuality. Just as YSL was inspired by his beloved Morocco and the Orient, I have infused the original design of Opium perfume (which as of 2010, is no longer on the market) with some extra doses of the euphoric aromas that bring this enchanting Spicy-Oriental perfume to life.

According to Ms. Hurwitz’s comments to me in email correspondence, the notes in Euphorisme d’Opium include:

bergamot, bitter orange, bay laurel, pimento berry, mandarin, eugenol-based carnation, bulgarian rose absolute, cinnamon bark, aldehyde c-14 (aka: gamma-undecalactone – peach), clove bud, egyptian jasmine absolute, olibanum, east indian patchouli, eastern lily – mixed media accord, australian sandalwood, tolu balsam, benzoin, beeswax absolute, myrrh gum, pink pepper, ylang ylang, amber essence, atlas cedar, galaxolide, cedramber, indolene, and vanilla absolute.

Photo: Alamy. Source: The Daily Mail.

Euphorisme d’Opium opens on my skin with a strong burst of spices. Instantly, you are hit by cloves, black pepper, pink pepper, and the bite of fiery chilis. They are followed by orange and bergamot, both of which have been infused with patchouli and incense, and the whole thing lies on a base of golden amber. Moments later, other notes arrive. There are delicate pink roses, trailed by hints of jasmine and ylang-ylang. The most prominent thing, however, is a dark, blood-red carnation. It practical swaggers into an arena dominated by spices and incense. The latter is interesting, smelling of both the black frankincense variety and the dustier myrrh sort.

Source: 1stdibs.com

In fact, there is initially almost a dusty quality to Euphorisme d’Opium, subtle though it may be. It is evocative of an old spice drawer whose contents have been unsettled, blowing fiery, pungent, and peppered particles into the air like a cloud of red, brown, and black dust. They swirl into the fruits which are such a key part of vintage Opium’s beginning.

There is a particular opening accord in that famous fragrance that everyone knows, where the bergamot feels transformed almost as if by pungent oakmoss into something brown-green, bitter, but sweet. In the same way, the orange is never just a warm glow of sun-sweetened, heavy juices, but something more pungent, spiced, and rich. It’s a peculiar transformation due to the spices and accompanying elements in Opium, where simple fruits are turned into something completely new with a darkness and a bite.

Source: Flowerpics.net

That happens here, too, with Euphorisme d’Opium. The spices are not the sole cause. The carnation is critical, though a rich, brown patchouli helps to a small extent. In fact, the carnation note is extremely prominent in the opening phase, smelling both floral and a little like cloves as well. Speaking of the cloves, I really don’t find the note to be as bold or as strong in Euphorisme d’Opium as it was in the original. It’s a shame, as that is one of my favorite elements of vintage Opium, but it probably makes Euphorisme much more approachable for a modern audience.

Adele by Mert & Marcus for US Vogue, 2013. Source: meltyfashion.fr

That is one of the many early differences that I detect. The cloves are not as robust, the incense is much lighter, the perfume is much less smoky, there is no Mysore sandalwood adding to the spiciness of the bouquet, and the perfume feels substantially sheerer in the opening moments.

With Euphorisme d’Opium, there isn’t an instant impression of fiery red and brown, nor a sense of viscosity that blankets you with heavy, thick, almost resinous, almost mossy, primordial ooze. Though the perfume changes later on to gain more body and richness, the opening verges on the gauzy at times. Euphorisme d’Opium is strong and potent in actual smell, but the visuals convey sheerness, and the cloves don’t punch you in the gut in quite the same way. (It’s undoubtedly due to the rules and limitations on eugenol, though Ms. Hurwitz has tried to use an “eugenol-based carnation” instead.) To compensate for that fact, the levels of both the black pepper and the rose in Euphorisme d’Opium seem higher than in the original.

These are small things that only someone who has worshiped, studied, dissected, and worn Opium for almost 30 years would ever realise. Well, probably not the initial sheerness, as I think that is extremely obvious, but definitely the rest. For the most part, Euphorisme d’Opium has an extremely similar feel of spicy, pungent, smoky richness infused with orange and crisp bergamot fruits that are simultaneously bitter and juicily sweet. There is the same visual of a golden bed of amber, and the same sense of florals lightly swirled into the mix, but waiting to show off the full extent of their voluptuous character.

Ylang-Ylang. Source: Soapgoods.com

The first hints of that character occur less than 15 minutes into Euphorisme d’Opium’s development. First, the vanilla peeks out its head. Then, minutes later, the ylang-ylang starts to emerge, adding its slightly custardy, banana-y, richly yellowed, velvety opulence to the mix. Both notes grow stronger with every passing moment. The ylang-ylang takes over the lead from the carnation, while the rose recedes to the sidelines.

In the horse race that is Euphorisme d’Opium, a hint of cedar appears at the starting gate, while the jasmine suddenly bolts out of the blue to the front of the pack. Its syrupy sweetness vies neck and neck with the ylang-ylang’s velvet to create a floral brew that is rich, heady, and narcotic. The two leaders are trailed by the spice pack, then by the bitter-sweet bergamot and orange, incense, carnation, and patchouli. Amber and vanilla are a few lengths back, while the poor cedar is still struggling to get out of the gate. The rose now watches in the Kentucky Derby’s guest box, sipping on a cocktail, and admiring the ylang-ylang leader’s yellow silks.

The overall effect is to suddenly wipe out that initial impression of thinness and gauziness, adding body and depth to Euphorisme d’Opium. There is almost a voluptuousness about the scent, the same feeling of languid, purring sensuality that lay at the heart of vintage Opium. Yet, the differences from the original continue to manifest themselves. I don’t think Euphorisme d’Opium is anywhere near as heavily smoky or incense driven as vintage Opium. The focus seems more floral in nature, with the buttery ylang-ylang in particular being stronger.

“Tattooed Salome,” c.1876 by Gustave Moreau.

As a whole, Euphorisme d’Opium feels much softer in attitude, as well as in its notes. Vintage Opium was a “Spice King” for Luca Turin, biblical Salome in my eyes, and the ultimate “Bitch Goddess” for one of my readers. Euphorisme d’Opium is a tempting courtesan bedecked with smoke, spices, and heady florals, but she’s not going to rip your head off and stick a dagger into your heart if you cross her. She won’t shiv you with cloves after blinding your eyes with smoke. She won’t undulate in a slithering lap dance of dark, treacly, balsamic resins, and she won’t take away your willpower with a thick haze of heavy amber.

Opium’s daughter is much less slutty, less brazenly bold, less intense. She is a more well-behaved courtesan with a light heart who prefers to flaunt her floral robes instead, though those robes are still covered with spices and slit quite low in a suggestive wink.

Natalie Portman by Mert & Marcus for W magazine, 2006. Source: forums.thefashionspot.com

At the start of the 2nd hour, Euphorisme d’Opium shifts a little. The perfume loses some of the heft that it had gained, and becomes thinner again. The spices weaken as well, leaving a bouquet that is primarily centered on ylang-ylang, jasmine, bergamot, orange, and spices (in that order) with incense, patchouli and vanilla. The ylang-ylang and the jasmine are still in their horse race for first place, alternating places in the lead as Euphorisme d’Opium progresses. There is little carnation, the rose is still sitting in the visitor’s box, and the cedar is still trailing the pack. The smoke is well-blended throughout, but it really isn’t a powerful, solitary presence in its own right. In other words, it is not the hefty wall that exists in Opium, but a thinner veil.

1977 Opium advert featuring Jerry Hall. Photo: Helmut Newton. Source: Vogue.com

Perhaps the best way that I can convey the comparative feel of Euphorisme d’Opium is with numbers. If the original, vintage version of Opium (especially that from the late 70s) set everything at a 10 on the scale (or blew it out at an 11), then Euphorisme d’Opium starts out initially at an 7.5 across most categories, but creates the general sense of an 8. After 2 hours, the numbers then drop down to a 6 for the ylang-ylang, 5s for the remainder, and a 4 for the spices. (Opium would still be at a 10 at this point.) But these are good numbers for the DSH creation, given that the 2000 to 2005 versions of Opium are barely worth classification, in my opinion, and certainly nothing after that period. (I won’t even smell the current scent. To whichever L’Oreal executives approved the castrated eunuchs, I hope you’re plagued with nightmares for the rest of your miserable existence. Euphorisme d’Opium proves that it is possible to have a modern, reformulated Opium, you money-hungry idiots.)

Going back to Euphorisme d’Opium, the whole thing is cocooned in a golden embrace, but amber isn’t a strong component of the scent in any clearly delineated, individually distinct way. I don’t smell Euphorisme d’Opium and think, “aha, labdanum!” The amber works with the tolu balsam resin indirectly to create a warmth and richness that tie all the notes together, but they’re not a driving force.

2.75 hours into Euphorisme d’Opium’s development, the perfume is a soft intimate scent of spiced ylang-ylang and jasmine with bergamot, slightly dusty myrrh, an increasingly syrupy patchouli and dry cedar, atop a resinous, ambered base flecked with vanilla. The Australian sandalwood emerges in the base, though it doesn’t really smell of sandalwood in any particular way. Its primary characteristic is creaminess, which is helped by the lovely vanilla. Between the sweet jasmine, the velvety ylang-ylang, and that base, Euphorisme d’Opium feels incredibly smooth, feeling an elegant, sleek sheath that coats the skin like silk. It’s a rich scent up close, but far from opaque or heavy. From afar, the overall impression is of cloved, spicy florals with tendrils of incense.

Photo: bykoket.com

Euphorisme d’Opium continues to soften. As the 3rd hour draws to a close, the perfume is smear of spiced florals with incense, amber, and vanilla. Euphorisme d’Opium grows more floral, more vanillic, and less spicy with every passing hour. By the middle of the 5th, it’s an absolutely beautiful jasmine and ylang-ylang scent that is only lightly spiced, but fully infused with a creamy, slightly dry vanilla, and a touch of smoke. About 7.5 hours in, Euphorisme d’Opium is a sexy, delicate, intimate scent of creamy flowers with vanilla and a touch of smoke. It remains that way for hours and hours, feeling compulsively sniffable whenever I bring my arm to my nose. In its final moments, Euphorisme d’Opium is a mere blur of floral sweetness, fading away a huge 13.5 hours from the start. The longevity is fantastic.

I’m less enthused by the sillage. Vintage Opium was a powerhouse. Euphorisme d’Opium is not. Ms. Hurwitz has told me that she doesn’t like big sillage or scents that leave a taste in one’s mouth. She prefers for fragrances to be intimate. Euphorisme d’Opium is stronger than many of the fragrances in her line, but only if you apply a lot. I was given a small atomizer to test and, the very first time I applied Euphorisme d’Opium, I merely dabbed it on. I didn’t spray, but applied a decent smear. Euphorisme d’Opium turned into a skin scent on me within 20 minutes. It was strong in bouquet, but only if I put my nose right on the skin. Interestingly, however, my shirt that I also sprayed it on wafted a huge amount of fragrance, about 5 inches in radius at first. But my skin? Nope. So I tried 2 smears of Euphorisme d’Opium — that didn’t do much for me, either. The perfume turned into a skin scent on me after an hour.

While dabbing and small quantities are a lost cause, Euphorisme d’Opium is a whole different story with spraying. Aerosolisation always increases the power and potency of a fragrance, but that seems especially true for this scent. 3 decent sprays from my small atomizer created a soft cloud that wafted 2-3 inches above the skin. For the sake of comparison, a similar amount of vintage Opium projects well over a foot on me, while 3 sprays from an actual bottle will give me about 3 feet in projection. (God, I love vintage Opium!) But Opium’s daughter is a child of the modern age, of modern tastes, and, most of all, of Ms. Hurwitz’s preference for softer, intimate fragrances that aren’t force fields. Euphorisme d’Opium’s sillage drops an inch after 30 minutes, then another at the end of the first hour.

Source: abm-enterprises.net

It hovers a mere inch, at best, above the skin from the end of the first hour until approximately the 2.5 hour mark when it turns into a skin scent. However, it is still extremely rich, deep, and potent when smelled up close. And no voracious sniffing is required, either. Euphorisme d’Opium remains that way until the start of the 8th hour, which is when more effort is required, and when the perfume turns truly wispy and thin. It’s really lovely though, and the overall longevity on my perfume-consuming skin is fantastic.

There are no reviews for Euphorisme d’Opium on Fragrantica‘s entry page, but there are very positive assessments for the fragrance on blogs. On Bois de Jasmin, a guest post from Suzanna reads:

Euphorisme is based upon the original Opium formula, which DSH has enhanced. It sounds as if it might be dangerous territory, but DSH handles it smoothly, creating not a dupe but a chypre/Oriental for the 21^st century with delicious orange/pimento notes shining through a veil of carnation and spice. DSH added honey and pink pepper notes that were to the best of her knowledge not in the original. Euphorisme is seduction by spice.

The sultry Victoria at EauMG writes, in part:

Euphorisme d’Opium opens as a spicy bitter citrus and aldehydes over fresh florals – carnation and rose, and lilies. There’s a creamy peach that adds a freshness to this spicy floral. It has a cloud of spices – pink pepper, clove, cinnamon. The heart is a spicy floral sweetened by a raw, sensual honey. The dry-down is warm and smoky incense and resins. The civet adds a depth that you just don’t smell in modern perfumes. It’s an intoxicating fragrance.

Ava Gardner photo from EauMG’s review.

Opium fans are aware that in 2010 the perfume was reformulated. Euphorisme d’Opium is closer to the original but isn’t a 100% dupe. In relation to Estee Lauder Cinnabar (you can’t talk about Opium without speaking of Cinnabar), Euphorisme d’Opium is smoother and doesn’t have such an aggressive, growling top/opening. In comparison to the pre-reformulated Opium and Cinnabar, Euphorisme is sheerer and more approachable to a “right now” audience. For example, original Opium wore like an Afghan coat, Euphorisme d’Opium is more like a satin kimono sleeve robe with an exotic print.

For The Alembicated Genie, Euphorisme d’Opium is just as spectacular as the original, though she too notes differences:

As Oriental perfumes go, Opium was another gold standard of feisty, fierce spice-and-fire, and in Dawn’s version, it is nothing more nor one whit less spectacular than its inspiration. The carnation-clove-orange and cinnamon beginnings – a large part of what made the original so distinctive – are here dampened a bit compared to the Opium I remember, and since I recall Opium sillage trails so thick you could taste them (those were the days, people!), this is no bad thing. Instead, it’s Opium without quite so much of a perfume hangover the next day, brighter and lighter and altogether a glorious twist on a perfume so iconic, I don’t even have to locate my mini of the original. I close my eyes, and in a twinkling of that spice and that fire, in the benzoin, myrrh-laden, vanilla embers that spark and flame long, long hours later, I’m all there and still happily caught in that moment, singing “Hot Stuff” along with Donna Summer.

Photo: Joel Ryan/Invision/AP for Vivienne Westwood, London Fashion week, 2013. Source: Salon.com

For Undina of Undina’s Looking Glass, the fragrance was almost too strong from mere dabbing, and all about the red, spicy carnation:

Don’t let [the] plethora of notes confuse you: this is a carnation-centered perfume. Too bad that “pissed-off carnation” name had been already taken: in my opinion, it would have suited this fragrance much better than Serge Lutens’ one. I sample it from a dab vial sent to me by the perfumer and thought it was a very powerful perfume. I’m not sure I could stand it sprayed – this is how intense it is. I’m still testing Euphorisme d’Opium trying to figure out if I should go for a bottle of it – while it’s still available.

Clearly, the issue of strength is going to come down to a person’s perfume style, tastes, and what they’re used to. If you worship and wear (or wore) vintage Opium, her modern daughter will seem very well-mannered, though decently strong, and you should definitely spray Euphorisme d’Opium. Preferably, at least two good spritzes, or you may be disappointed. However, if you hated vintage Opium’s potency or don’t like perfumes that open strongly, then dabbing will be your best bet.

Photo: Matt Anderson via elements-magazine.com

If you’re someone who is ambivalent about vintage Opium or who only remembers the scent from your mother, let me emphasize that this is not your mother’s perfume. It is a very modern reinvention of the scent for the current era. Whether or not you like that version is really going to depend on your feelings about spicy florientals. Do you enjoy cloves? Do you like opulent, strong scents? Does the mere mention of carnation, jasmine, or ylang-ylang send you screaming for the hills? If so, then you should stay away.

Otherwise, please give Euphorisme d’Opium a try. It is my absolute favorite from the DSH line, followed by the beautiful Le Smoking with its green chypre opening and tobacco-cannabis ambered heart. My issues with the latter’s weak sillage and longevity shouldn’t dissuade you, especially if you get an aerosol spray sample, because the scent really is that lovely. It is absolutely worth a try. (You may want to just plaster it on.)

Since this is the very last review in my DSH Perfumes series, I would also recommend sniffing my third favorite from the brand which is Parfum de Luxe. Granted, I had an atypical expresso-licorice experience with that one, but I’m hardly alone in finding it wonderful and sultry. Other people also love the chypre-oriental with its tobacco head and labdanum amber heart, infused with neroli, tuberose, ylang-ylang, herbal notes, and darkness. And if you like gourmands centered on cinnamon that soon turn darker with resinous amber, then you may want to keep Cafe Noir in mind, while hardcore patchouli and amber-vanilla lovers will want to consider Bodhi Sativa and Vanille Botanique, respectively. (I would also recommend DSH Perfume’s Poivre, for a peppered-clove fragrance. I haven’t officially covered that one yet, and won’t for a long time, but I liked it quite a bit.)

I would like to add that all of these fragrances could be worn by men, especially Le Smoking and some of the darker scents listed above. That said, I do think that men who are unused to wearing ylang-ylang might find Euphorisme d’Opium’s drydown to skew slightly into the feminine territory. They need to try vintage Opium, because, honestly, they don’t know what they are missing out on. It is a fragrance which is a hundred times better, richer, spicier, and more “masculine” than its male counterpart (Opium for Men). As for the men who have already discovered the dragon’s roar of vintage Opium and love it, I think they would enjoy the daughter as well. Even if they own Opium, I would hope they would both be open to trying a modern take on the spicy classic. There is no way that a man couldn’t comfortably pull off Euphorisme d’Opium’s bold opening.

The 10 ml bottle of EDP. Source: Fragrantica.

For me, not all the DSH fragrances suit my personal tastes, especially given their intimate sillage. (Hey, I was weaned on vintage Opium at the age of 7. It became the standard baseline of what I thought was “normal.”) But I definitely want Euphorisme d’Opium. It’s wonderful, and I can’t get that silky smooth, delicious drydown out of my head. Plus, the perfume is affordable enough to enable spraying with wild abandon (and in quantities that would probably terrify Ms. Hurwitz) to get it more up to vintage Opium territory. Euphorisme d’Opium costs $55 for a 10 ml Eau de Parfum spray, and $125 for a 1 oz/30 ml bottle. (Other sizes, minis, and a pure parfum extrait option are available as well, with the latter being something I want to try before I make up my mind.) Even better, I can stop worrying about using up my stock of vintage Opium that I hoard like Smaug and his gold.

Euphorisme d’Opium is not the dangerous, fiery dragon that is her mother, she’s too well-mannered to be a brazen, biblical temptress, and she’s most definitely a modern girl who believes in intimate relationships, but she’s beautiful. Really beautiful.

Disclosure: Perfume sample courtesy of DSH Perfumes. That did not impact this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Euphorisme d’Opium is an eau de parfum that comes in a variety of sizes, as well as in a pure parfum extrait concentration. It is available exclusively on the DSH Perfumes website. The perfume is offered in: a 1 dram or 3.7 ml miniature-sized flask of what I think is pure parfum extrait for $45; a 10 ml EDP concentration spray for $55; and a 1 oz/30 ml bottle of EDP for $125. The elegant antique bottle of Pure Parfum Extrait is 0.5 oz and costs $198. Samples of the EDP are available at $5 for a 1/2 ml vial. In general, all orders over $10 will receive free samples of fragrances, with the number depending on the amount of your order. If you are outside the U.S., international shipping is available if you contact DSH Fragrances.