Rose Cut by Ann Gérard

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: aldehydes, rum, pink pepper, rose, peony, patchouli, benzoin, vanilla, oakmoss

"The name Rose Cut refers to an ancient diamond cutting technique that lends the stone a soft radiance..."

Rose Cut is Ann Gérard's fourth release, once again composed by Bertrand Duchaufour, and is described as a chypré. This is actually incorrect, as it's really a floral-oriental.

Devoid of any citrus top notes, labdanum and natural animalic musks, this fragrance doesn't even deserve to be classified in such a way. It's completely misleading and an insult to consumers. Moreover, it smells like a waxy and synthetic department store rose scent, with a price tag that's far from justifiable.

With an unimpressive aldehydic opening, a repressed booziness and a generic rose oriental premise, Rose Cut is utterly derivate. Possessing moderate sillage and good longevity, Bertrand Duchaufour should be ashamed of himself for creating such a cheap-smelling monstrosity.

Cuir de Nacre by Ann Gérard

*****

Year: 2012

Notes: aldehydes, ambrette seed, ozonic notes, angelica root, cassie, iris, leather, styrax, sandalwood, white musks

Cuir de Nacre is more of an olfactory depiction of the mineralistic frigidity of mother of pearl, with gentle hints of iris and suede. However, there are three fundamental drawbacks about it.

Firstly, the opening is weird and unpleasant, consisting of the ballpoint pen aroma of ambrette seed, aldehydes and the cool coupling of angelica root with an ozonic note. The overall impression is earthy, bizarre and aloof in equal measure. And although this sets the scene for the emerging iris, it fails to competently engage.

Secondly, the iris and leather are rather fleeting. Smelling refined, they are too placid, especially when they are supposed to be integral to the composition. Personally, one can't help concluding that it's more about ambrette seed, styrax and musk than anything else.

Thirdly, for a parfum extrait, its performance is excruciatingly poor. Providing minimal sillage and lasting for less than four hours, it comes across as anything but an extrait. By the time it reaches the drydown, all that's left is a metallic musky aroma that smells woefully like a synthetic department store fragrance.

Composed by Bertrand Duchaufour, it clearly isn't his best work. But the way the iris effortlessly melds into the ambrette seed is the only half-decent thing one can say about it.

Ciel d'Opale by Ann Gérard

*****

Year: 2012

Notes: bergamot, Calabrian lemon, lime, quince, Sichuan pepper, galbanum, mock-orange, cassie, jasmine, honeysuckle, amber, vanilla, vetiver, cedar, guaiac wood, sandalwood

After Olivier Durbano's success in perfumery, suddenly every jeweller now has their own fragrance line...

Ann Gérard is a French jewellery designer, who has employed the services of Bertrand Duchaufour to make her olfactory collection a reality. And although these fragrances aren't worth getting too excited about, collaborating with a perfumer of such repute was a very wise business decision indeed.

Ciel d'Opale opens with a mélange of citruses, green and peppery accords, and non-indolic white florals. During this stage, both the cassie and honeysuckle are prominent, with a honeyed sweetness seeping through. As for the jasmine, it serves to secure a smooth transition towards a woody ambery denouement.

But, during the mid notes, it suddenly lowers its volume considerably – almost to the point where the fragrance is hardly perceptible at all. As it turns out, the second half of its performance is strikingly discreet, as delicate woods and amber whisper sweet nothings to each other. After such a wonderful shimmering opening, the finale is both hollow and bitterly disappointing.

Providing below average lasting power, the succulent first half is definitely worth experiencing. Sadly, the rest of the composition simply doesn't cut it.

Perle de Mousse by Ann Gérard

*****

Year: 2012

Notes: bergamot, green mandarin, aldehydes, pink pepper, galbanum, ivy, lily of the valley, hawthorn, Bulgarian rose, jasmine, gardenia, clove, mastic, vanilla, ambergris, musk

While it's a modern chypré, due to the absence of oakmoss, Perle de Mousse attempts to compensate for this in other ways. It doesn't quite succeed in emulating the green floral-chyprés of yore but still has its merits.

The overall aroma is verdant and fresh, with a short-lived pairing of citrus and aldehydes. To its credit, the green accords persist for longer than expected, along with an underlining spicy-peppery tone. It's both dark and dewy, with the white florals being the most prominent aspect of its floral bouquet.

As the green floral core subsides, a cocktail of mastic, musk and a touch of vanilla eventually join the fray. One can only assume that the role of the mastic is to add some edge as, without it, the sweet spicy-musk drydown would have been even more uneventful than it actually turns out to be.

To claim that it doesn't hold a candle to the vintage chyprés would be reasonably fair, but it's a better moss-free alternative than other recent releases of this ilk. Yes, its evolution is somewhat limited, and it isn't as tenacious as originally hoped, but it's still a respectable creation in spite of its limitations.