Who here likes old-fashioned aldehydic florals? I do. I love their whiff of silk stockings, champagne and evenings at the opera. I adore how tidy and elegant these fragrances are compared to my messy, cat-hair fluffed life. I even appreciate the genre’s inscrutability to the general public weaned on fruit, soliflores and patchouli.
If you’re like me, you’ve been impatient to smell Frédéric Malle Superstitious, classified by the company as a “grand aldehyde floral…”
Pardon the name-drop, but a little more than three years ago, through a lucky set of circumstances, I met Thomas Fontaine, the Jean Patou house perfumer.1 For me, it was an amazing afternoon of seeing what a real perfumer’s lab looks like, tasting jasmine and rose Pierre Hermé macarons, and talking fragrance with someone who lives and breathes a world I’ve mostly only read about.
One thing in particular sticks in my memory. Talking about Joy, Fontaine mentioned walking past women — mostly older women — in the street and inhaling their lush, complex sillage, “like a fur.” He described this style of fragrance as “old fashioned.” I bet Fontaine would say the same thing about Moment Suprême…
In perfumery, lavender has mostly been set aside for men’s scents — for fougères in particular. Lavender-focused fragrance marketed to women is scarce enough that we can practically count them on one hand: Christian Dior Dune (the moody stalwart), Jean Patou Moment Suprême (the one that got away) and Vero Profumo Kiki (the new standard). You might be able to toss in a few others. To this list, I’ll add the original Dana Ambush.
Ambush, created by the legendary perfumer Jean Carles, launched in 1955…
That’s a presumptuous title, isn’t it? Why should I know what perfume will lift your mood? I don’t, so here’s a list of five perfumes that make me happy. My criteria is that they be friendly, uplifting, and maybe a little wacky. No brooding orientals or pretentious oeuvres here. Maybe you’ll find something to perk you up, too.
Jean Patou Colony: On the top of the “happy because it’s wacky” list is Colony, a pineapple syrup-infused chypre. To me, Colony is like an elegantly dressed woman who knows how to burp on command or who does a spot-on imitation of Foghorn Leghorn — all without mussing a hair of her chignon. How can that not bring you joy? For a bohemian take on the same concept…
I was thinking of worn and repainted urban walls; I also was thinking of fresco painting — which is the origin of the fantasy note ‘wet plaster.’ — Bruno Fazzolari
It was the “wet plaster” that got me. To me, texture is one of the most intriguing aspects of perfume. Knowing Bruno Fazzolari Monserrat had a plaster note made me want to try it right away. I imagined something chalky and creamy at the same time, giving the fragrance the feel of earthy pastry cream.1
And it did. Monserrat’s plaster is really there…