Superstitious by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2017

Notes: aldehydes, peach, frankincense, Turkish rose, Egyptian jasmine, patchouli, amber, Haitian vetiver

Comment: Superstitious is part of the Par Frédéric Malle Collection

For the second instalment in the Par Frédéric Malle Collection, Superstitious acts as a homage to Moroccan-Israeli fashion designer Alber Elbaz.

With Dominique Ropion at the helm, it's an aldehydic-floral that's vaguely reminiscent of Lanvin's Arpège. But the composition still exudes a degree of modernity, opening with citric aldehydic top notes that's crisp, clean, metallic, waxy and in complete contrast to the vintage aura normally associated with such fragrances.

The peach is three-dimensional and evocative, as opposed to an obscure fruity sweetness, possessing tart and fleshy nuances. As it further develops, a one-two punch of rose and jasmine soon emerges – with a lush and silky rose component, and the jasmine exhibiting an indole-like creaminess. And even though it started out as rather loud, by the time the mid notes have been reached, its volume has lowered considerably, resulting in a soapy floral affair with mentholated subtleties.

Residing on a base of amber and woods, the patchouli adds a camphorous earthiness and the amber fortifies the preceding floral sweetness. One personally doesn't detect much frankincense, except for a wispy reminder here and there towards the end, but the vetiver ensures that the final drydown is soft and creamy with a serene grassy-woodiness.

By and large, it's a well-composed creation that, disregarding the treatment of the aldehydes, isn't going to be considered groundbreaking in any way. Remaining a skin scent, for most of its duration, it isn't as bombastic or tenacious as some have reported. However, it still comes recommended to those who enjoy mature floral elegance over adolescent floral triviality.

Outrageous! by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2007

Notes: grapefruit, lime, green apple, mint, cinnamon, neroli, orange blossom, white rose, amber, Texan cedar, clean laundry accord, musks

Composed by Sophia Grojsman, and sold exclusively at Barneys and Barneys Co-op stores, Outrageous! is a shameless mass market fragrance. In contrast to Frédéric Malle's prestigious niche reputation, many were left confounded when it was initially released. But, with slightly different packaging and a lower price, one suspects that the whole affair was some twisted tongue-in-cheek experiment.

Opening with a harsh and metallic resemblance to a caipirinha accord (courtesy of some grapefruit, lime, mint and cinnamon), the green apple exacerbates the composition's already screechy and artificial manner. With a light white floral core, the base is just as contemptible as the top notes – comprised of white musks, synthetic woods and a clean laundry accord (or a cocktail of aldehydes and amyl salicylate). As a result, it smells more like designer sport dreck than anything resembling high-quality niche.

In summary, it's an ozonic woody-musk concoction, with fruity undertones, which smells musty, uninspired and excruciatingly cheap. Providing below average sillage and tenacity, Outrageous! is a real oddball, and serves as both a curio and major misstep for this French niche house.

Monsieur. by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2016

Notes: mandarin, rum, patchouli, frankincense, cedar, suede, amber, vanilla, musk

Meant as the masculine counterpart to Portrait of a Lady, Monsieur. boasts an unusual dosage of over 50% of molecular distilled patchouli. As a result, Monsieur. is to patchouli what Carnal Flower is to tuberose (and what Geranium pour Monsieur is to geranium, Vétiver Extraordinaire is to vetiver, The Night is to oud, blah blah blah blah blah).

But, with this French niche house now owned by Estée Lauder, is there really anything to be concerned about, regarding the quality and creativity of future releases? After sampling Monsieur., one is forced to admit that the answer is yes.

Opening with a boozy cascade of mandarin and rum, the patchouli makes its presence known almost straight away. But, within less than 30 seconds, its initial boisterous introduction quickly turns into a soapy skin scent. The patchouli is still evident but only just, as some frankincense, cedar and amber meekly join the fray.

With leathery nuances, the composite effect is very similar to a budget-priced oud offering, which heavily relies on cedar and leathery-musk accords to (unconvincingly) mimic the aroma of agarwood oil. With gentle swirls of frankincense and vanilla, the rest of its evolution is both banal and underwhelming. And although it's supposed to be about patchouli, it's mostly a derivative and cheap-smelling cedar-frankincense affair.

Created by Bruno Jovanovic, who was also responsible for Dries van Noten, Monsieur. is a real disappointment and totally at odds with this house's usual high standards. Based on this alone, one can only say that Frédéric Malle's future releases under Estée Lauder could be potentially disastrous. But, then again, the unsatisfactory Cologne Indélébile should have been viewed as a possible forewarning.

Woefully thin and insubstantial, its development is unusually rapid, with low sillage and poor longevity.

Cologne Indélébile by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2015

Notes: bergamot, lemon, neroli, orange blossom, daffodil, musks

"Marrying the freshness of cologne with the sensuality of a skin scent."

One has to make a confession about this very well-respected French niche house...

As much as one respects Frederic Malle's creations, most of them possess a laboratory coldness that's fused with a bourgeois elegance. In other words, what's often missing is a certain degree of emotional warmth. And anything potentially ardent in the compositions is either restrained or substituted with aroma chemicals, often resulting in both a detached and aloof aura.

This tends to be even more apparent when Dominique Ropion is at the helm – the master perfumer and much lauded perfectionist. But can perfection always be a good thing? Based on Ropion's idea of flawlessness, one doesn't particularly think so. With every new fragrance for this house, one feels that Ropion's compositions are becoming increasingly stilted, constrained and too precious. And the release of Cologne Indélébile only further confirms one's suspicions.

Upon smelling it, one discerns a muted citrus frenzy, with some citrus tree florals, resting on a prominent white musk base. Compared to Bigarade Concentrée, Cologne Indélébile is more tenacious but the citruses aren't as spirited. Allegedly, Ropion wanted to create a modern Eau de Cologne "free from every imperfection" but, when certain accords have significantly dulled the vibrancy of the citrus top notes...

With an overdose of neroli and orange blossom, forming the majority of the mid notes, Cologne Indélébile would appeal more to lovers of these two ingredients (albeit with a low key performance). However, when compared to other 'Eaux de Cologne' from the same house, one much prefers the more vivacious Eau de Magnolia.

The Night by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: Turkish rose, amber, Indian oud

Comment: The Night is a Dubai and Paris exclusive

After the release of Portrait of a Lady, it was inevitable that this French niche house would pander towards the Middle Eastern market, in the form of an oud offering. While most fragrance houses use synthetic oud in their creations, The Night comprises of an "unprecedented proportion" of natural Indian (or Hindi) agarwood oil.

Upon first smelling it, one is unable to question such a claim. The opening is very true to the characteristics of genuine high-quality Indian oud oil – voluptuous, raunchy and faecal. With a heavy emphasis on this ingredient, the barnyard aspect dominates for quite some time, before a demure rose accord gradually emerges. Although the oud aroma is strong, it does eventually settle down to allow the rose and emerging amber to fully breathe. With the rose and amber working together, the drydown is sweeter, mellower and more approachable. Sillage is moderate but its tenacity is very good.

It would be very easy to accuse The Night of being a flanker of Portrait of a Lady (after all, both were composed by Dominique Ropion). But, disregarding the woods, rose and amber theme that links them, the two are unique enough in their own right. For one, The Night is largely about oud, while Portrait of a Lady focuses on the rose. Also, The Night is structurally sparser than Portrait of a Lady – being devoid of additional embellishments, such as fruits, spices and heavy synthetic musks. But, if nothing else, one would deem The Night to be the woodier and more masculine of the two.

When comparing it to, say, Mona di Orio's Oud, The Night is a heavy-weight that, with regards to the amount of genuine oud oil used, puts Mona di Orio's creation well in the shade. However, in terms of originality, the tables are completely turned. Where Oud ventures into unfamiliar and groundbreaking territory, composition-wise, The Night sadly adheres to the tired and clichéd olfactory path. Based on Ropion's skills, as well as the prohibitive cost of acquiring large quantities of this material, one would have expected something more unique.

Essentially, it's a standard rose-oud affair, using genuine Indian oud oil, blended impeccably but with a sky-high price tag to match (and naturally so).

Eau de Magnolia by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: Calabrian bergamot, magnolia, amber, patchouli, vetiver, cedar, moss

Compared to other floral offerings from this house, Eau de Magnolia is conceptually very different.

Both its name and luminous aura implies that it's a magnolia-infused Eau de Cologne. However, its main focus isn't on the floral aspect. Regardless of this, one views Eau de Magnolia as the female counterpart to Cologne Bigarade and Bigarade Concentrée.

The citrus opening is sparkling, uplifting and buoyant, and effortlessly melds with the impending magnolia. With fresh, green and fruity properties, the magnolia (also known as white champa) acts as a complementary bridge for the almost aldehydic citrus top notes and the verdant earthiness that soon follows. As it evolves, the amber accentuates the floral component, while the evident woods are mellow and well-balanced.

Overall, its performance is both smooth and sanguine, with a linear simplicity that deceptively belies the skill in its execution. Also, when compared to traditional Eaux de Cologne, it possesses much better tenacity – easily persisting for six hours. And while it might be considered less impressive than the floral releases that preceded it, it still comes across as warmer, more humane... and quite possibly suitable enough even for a maid.

Being the first Frédéric Malle fragrance by Carlos Benaim, one senses a lot of potential.

Dries van Noten by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2013

Notes: bergamot, lemon, nutmeg, clove, saffron, jasmine, methyl ionone, patchouli, tonka bean, vanilla, ethyl maltol, sulfurol, guaiac wood, Peru balsam, Mysore sandalwood, cashmeran

Comment: Dries van Noten is part of the Par Frédéric Malle Collection

This 2013 release is the first in a new Frédéric Malle collection – its main purpose being to "translate the world of people and brands that I admire into scents". Belgian fashion designer, Dries van Noten, is the first olfactory portrait of people that Frédéric Malle admires and respects.

Composed by Bruno Jovanovic, Dries van Noten draws its inspiration from the sweet, warm and vanillic aromas of Flemish pastries. Using Mysore sandalwood as a starting point, its creamy woodiness is further augmented by the addition of some tonka bean, vanilla, guaiac wood and Peru balsam. In addition, ethyl maltol (an organic compound that emits a caramelised sugar aroma) and sulfurol (also known as sacrasol, and possesses milky, nutty and yeasty properties) have been included to accentuate the composition's patisserie concept.

This "monumental warmth" is complemented by a gentle serving of saffron and other spices. Collectively, these accords are nestled between an array of tart citruses and a dollop of cashmeran musk in the base. With subtle white floral facets, it's a spicy woody-gourmand that's comforting. As a result, it's far removed from this house's more distant and aloof offerings.

Overall, it's sweet and creamy, with an inviting spicy warmth. However, one very much doubts that it contains a significant amount of Mysore sandalwood, with the 'enhancing' notes covering up the discrepancy. Furthermore, the high dose of cashmeran is particularly discernible, resulting in a faux woody-musk aura throughout.

The closest Frédéric Malle creation one can compare Dries van Noten to is Musc Ravageur. But one personally believes that Dries van Noten smells a lot closer to Comme des Garçons' long-discontinued Burnt Sugar... with Francis Kurkdjian's fingerprints all over it. Thus, as much as one finds it reasonably enjoyable to wear, it's not that groundbreaking or original.

Projection is modest but its staying power is excellent, persisting for at least ten hours.

Portrait of a Lady by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2010

Notes: raspberry, blackcurrant, pepper, cinnamon, clove, frankincense, Turkish rose, patchouli, benzoin, sandalwood, ambroxan, white musks

Portrait of a Lady is the third rose-themed release from this house. But, unlike Une Rose, one isn't completely enamoured with it. Created by Dominique Ropion, it contains hefty doses of rose essence and patchouli heart. And while this alone is technically groundbreaking, the end result isn't particularly original or satisfying.

Moreover, one gets the impression that the base of Geranium pour Monsieur (also by Dominique Ropion) has largely been used as the foundation for Portrait of a Lady (i.e. frankincense, sandalwood, ambroxan and white musks). In addition, Portrait of a Lady also showcases similar spices to Geranium pour Monsieur, albeit more understated (i.e. cinnamon and clove). But it's the ambroxan and white musks that cause the most offence – revealing a clean, yet synthetic and monotonous, ambery muskiness from the mid notes onwards.

While the rose opening is undeniably lush, it still lacks the vividness of Une Rose and later becomes obscured by various other notes. Also, the patchouli heart, as expected, is clean and devoid of most of the camphorous-earthy properties found in ordinary patchouli essential oils. However, its role mainly serves to reinforce the fruity accords, which accentuate the rose, than providing a distinguished woody leaning.

All in all, there's something soulless about it and, while it provides excellent projection and staying power, one was hoping for something more enchanting and less clinical.

Une Rose by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2003

Notes: wine dregs, blue camomile, geranium, Turkish rose, truffle, patchouli, vetiver, castoreum

After the mediocre Lipstick Rose, Une Rose is a massive improvement from this French niche house.

It's a well-executed rose soliflore, with a complementary booziness from the wine dregs, a lush rose accord, a minty green vibrancy from the geranium, dark earthy aspects from the truffle and patchouli, and primal nuances from the castoreum. All of these come together to create a vivid rendition of rose, which magnifies the star note and exudes an almost gothic romanticism.

Unlike many other rose fragrances, it isn't fresh, dewy, soapy or powdery, even though the citrus opening may briefly suggest otherwise. Instead, it's a dusky and voluptuous crimson affair, with the rose's honeyed plum-like sweetness seeping through. And as opposed to possessing a youthful pink-infused femininity, the overall effect is more brooding, sensual and sophisticated.

Unfortunately, its evolution isn't perfect from start to finish. As it further develops, the musky drydown turns out to be the composition's Achilles' heel – featuring a trite cocktail of acetone and white musks. Although the dark rose aroma is still evident, one would have preferred a less synthetic conclusion. While one wouldn't class this stage as grating, it's certainly discernible to a degree.

Composed by Edouard Flechier, who also created Lys Méditerranée, Une Rose is somewhat flawed but still an impressive effort. With both these offerings being so well-received, on this blog, one does wonder why Frédéric Malle and Edouard Flechier haven't teamed-up again since.

Providing adequate sillage and longevity, it should also be pointed out that its price tag is very expensive.

En Passant by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: white lilac, cucumber, fig, rain accord, orange leaf, wheat

En Passant is a delicate olfactory essay on the dewiness of white lilacs after the rain.

With a minimalist structure, it exudes a vividly damp and bitter green simplicity throughout. As a top note, the white lilac immediately bequeaths a faint floral sweetness, before both the cucumber and fig add an additional verdancy. The fig isn't as prominent but one does detect a decaying vegetal aroma, during this stage, primarily from the cucumber (in a very similar vein to Fresh's Cucumber Baie).

As it further evolves, it morphs from an abstract floral evocation of innocence into something more melancholic, aloof and detached, courtesy of an aquatic note. And when combined with the wheat, which possesses a faint doughiness that's reminiscent of L'Artisan's Bois Farine, the composition suddenly comes across as waxy and synthetic. From here onwards, its demeanour changes to that of a bona fide floral-aquatic.

Now smelling akin to a murky floral room freshener one minute, and a slightly peppery Issey Miyake flanker the next, En Passant's drydown fails to uphold that initial charm and structurally falls apart. Furthermore, although its performance is understated, it's still weak for an Eau de Toilette – barely lasting beyond two hours.

Composed by Olivia Giacobetti, there are numerous Frédéric Malle releases worth investing in, but En Passant unfortunately isn't one of them.

Le Parfum de Thérèse by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: mandarin, melon, coriander, pepper, nutmeg, violet, rose, jasmine, plum, leather, cedar, vetiver

Originally created in the 1950s, by the late Edmond Roudnistka, Le Parfum de Thérèse was a well-kept secret – previously never commercially available and named after his wife, Thérèse, who was the only person allowed to wear it at the time.

As Frédéric Malle had relished this fragrance throughout his childhood, years later, he sought permission from the Roudnistka family to release it commercially. Interestingly enough, without their consent, this French niche house would never have come to be, as Malle considered Le Parfum de Thérèse to be a crucial creation for his newly proposed 'publishing house'.

Le Parfum de Thérèse is considered to be the blueprint for Edmond's later compositions, particularly Christian Dior's Diorissimo. However, Le Parfum de Thérèse also shares key accords with an earlier creation, Diorama, which was released in 1949 (i.e. melon, pepper, nutmeg, violet, lily of the valley, jasmine, plum, leather, cedar and vetiver). Based on this, it's clear that Edmond Roudnistka had already established his own unique olfactory style by this point.

With a spicy fruitiness, alongside a herbaceous-ozonic backdrop of coriander and lily of the valley (unlisted but still discernible), this fruity-floral could have been considered ahead of its time back in the day. Exhibiting a hint of violet, a juicy plumminess and a worn-in leather note, all these aspects are impeccably blended, alongside a resounding cantaloupe-like freshness.

Effortlessly exuding a Parisian chic aura, one's only reservations are that it lacks sufficient projection and could have had better staying power. But, irrespective of its flaws, Le Parfum de Thérèse serves as a reminder of just how magical the golden age of perfumery once was.

It's a beguiling masterpiece, which makes Frédéric Malle's all or nothing ethos all the more poignant.

Noir Épices by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: orange, pepper, nutmeg, cinnamon, clove, geranium, rose, patchouli, cedar, sandalwood

When the name of a fragrance includes the word 'noir(e)', there's usually the assumption that it will be dark and brooding. But, with regards to Noir Épices, such an epithet doesn't hold true.

Created by Michel Roudnitska, Noir Épices is a spicy woody-oriental, consisting of candied orange, aldehydes, woods and spices. However, there's nothing particularly dark about it. Yes, its oriental manner is notably stark but, for the most part, it possesses a warm soapy radiance. With a skeletal structure, it also forsakes clichéd base notes, such as vanilla, resins and musks, in favour of soft woods and a deluge of crisp exotic spices.

Starting with an orange-infused aldehydic opening, the spices are initially intense, raw and somewhat metallic, before settling down and pulsating a soft piquant warmth. Both the geranium and rose generate a verdant, yet tender, floral nucleus. With the spicy-citrus premise still persisting into the drydown, the buttery emanation of sandalwood and patchouli serve to confirm the composition's status as an oriental.

Producing moderate sillage, and excellent longevity of over ten hours, Noir Épices largely comes across as the male version of Caron's Parfum Sacré (which is amusing, as Noir Épices was originally conceived for women). With the florals toned down, the spicy-citrus aspect increased and the resinous base extracted to highlight the creamy woods, the olfactory parallels between these two creations are rather evident. Naturally, one wonders if Parfum Sacré was the original source of inspiration.

Overall, Noir Épices is a bold creation. It's rich, well-constructed and exudes plenty of depth. Unfortunately, its contradictory rating is reflective of the fact that, regardless of how carefully it's stored, the juice has a tendency of losing its potency and smelling flat over a short period of time. With volatile components, such as citrus and aldehydes, this is to be expected but usually after several years of careful storage.

So, with that said, it's one creation that's greatly admired but only from afar.

Une Fleur de Cassie by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: bergamot, aldehydes, apricot, sage, cumin, cassie, violet, rose, mimosa, jasmine, salicylate, carnation, clove, vanilla, cedar, sandalwood, musk cetone

With Dominique Ropion at the helm, Une Fleur de Cassie is a nostalgic and dexterous aldehydic-floral, which towers above most of the feminine dreck being released nowadays. Incorporating a certain degree of modernity, it's also a challenging composition that refuses to please everyone.

Opening with citrus and aldehydes, one senses a heady and cumin-infused botanical floral trail, which smells both industrial and indolic at the same time. Enshrouded in a fog of rubber and exhaust fumes, with underlying vegetal, metallic and doughy accents, it's impossible to overlook its austere and detached floral premise. With that in mind, one can also discern certain olfactory parallels between Une Fleur de Cassie and Carnal Flower, which was released five years later.

It's been mentioned elsewhere that the general aroma is similar to that of stale tap water in a vase, and there's a certain element of truth in that. Beyond the generous serving of jasmine, the dusky rose, the subdued violet, the carnation's spicy nuances, and the verdancy of both the cassie and mimosa, there's a dank green ozonic quality present. When combined, this earthy and animalic cocktail of herbs, spices, florals, woods and musks closely allude to the aforementioned description.

Featuring a light base of woods, vanilla and white musk, its projection and longevity are both alarmingly subpar. While this is disappointing, one can't deny that it's refined, complex and cerebral in its abstract androgyny. For that alone, one will award it an extra star.

Iris Poudre by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: bergamot, orange, aldehydes, lily of the valley, violetta rose, magnolia, carnation, ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, vanilla, tonka bean, amber, rosewood, ebony, vetiver, sandalwood, musk

Created by Pierre Bourdon, Iris Poudre pays tribute to Chanel's Chanel No.5 and ramps up the iris.

As an aldehydic-floral, it's soft, cool, elegant and relatively powdery, with a moderately sweet yet well-balanced structure. The citrus accords serve to heighten the aldehydic opening, as a sophisticated floral mélange shortly follows – initially possessing a vibrant freshness, before transforming into something spicy and creamy. As for the powdery iris, its lipstick accents are never too imposing.

However, by the second half of its lifespan, it becomes less striking and more timid. By the time the floral core has reached a creamy plateaux, an array of amber, woods, vanilla and musk gradually infiltrate. This transition is virtually seamless, as traces of sweet florals intertwine with a mild sandalwood-infused oriental base.

A subdued damp earthiness is later discernible, particularly from the vetiver, but the drydown never manages to maintain one's interest for very long. Although this stage could be considered more unisex, one wished that its earlier antiquated solemnity continued to persist for significantly longer.

Iris Poudre isn't a fragrance that one would personally wear, but it's still a great example of an iris soliflore done very well. And while some may find it too feminine, it certainly highlights the shortcomings of the more artificial masculine iris offerings, such as Christian Dior's Dior Homme.

Sillage is moderate, after the first two hours, with average lasting power.

Carnal Flower by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2005

Notes: camphor, bergamot, melon, eucalyptus, orange blossom, ylang-ylang, jasmine, tuberose, salicylate, coconut, white musks

Carnal Flower is a cool, aloof and earthy tuberose soliflore. Comprising of the highest concentration of tuberose absolute currently on the market, it isn't as tenacious as one was expecting. Instead, its lasting power is below average with eventual minimal sillage.

Starting with a camphorous blast, coupled with some eucalyptus, the scene's set for its standoffish and distant demeanour. Equally contributing towards the gradual diffusion of the buttery richness of the tuberose, the green jasmine soon joins the fray. Although coconut isn't particularly a note that one favours, here it's very evident but also well-integrated. As for a melon accord, it's far too subdued to detect.

However, as the earthy green florals dominate the proceedings, one can't help but discern a noticeable parallel with some of Dominique Ropion's other efforts for this house – a clinical musk base, infused with either a green or woody theme. For a composition like Vétiver Extraordinaire, it's excusable as it perfectly complements what preceded the drydown. But with Carnal Flower, the tuberose is soon oppressed to a fault.

Regardless of one's reservations, the overall quality is very impressive but, while it's classified as unisex, many men might find the first half of its evolution too feminine to be worn with confidence.

Lys Méditerranée by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: marine notes, ginger lily, lily of the valley, water lily, orange blossom, angelica root, vanilla, ambrette seed, musk

Lys Méditerranée is a heavenly lily composition, which masterfully incorporates three different species of lily to such breathtaking effect.

The ginger lily provides a spicy and yet warm facet, the lily of the valley imparts an astringent green accord and the water lily diffuses a subtle sea breeze aroma. Together, they vividly create a true olfactory representation of fresh thriving lilies, joyfully exuding the resurgence, vitality and reacquainted beauty naturally experienced upon the arrival of spring.

With a somewhat honeyed sweetness from the orange blossom, the persistent green notes continue to endure – even managing to cut through the sweetness of the light vanillic musk base. Possessing good projection and excellent longevity, it's elegant, easy to wear and beautifully composed.

Personally, it's one of the few remarkable releases from the house of Frédéric Malle.

Angéliques sous la Pluie by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: coriander, pink pepper, juniper berry, angelica root, cedar, musk

Jean-Claude Elléna's creations, for Frédéric Malle, have noticeably been a very intriguing mixed bag (especially when one considers their prices). With regards to Angéliques sous la Pluie, one is left torn between lukewarm indifference and glowing admiration.

Upon application, one is met with an extremely stark pepper and juniper berry opening (infused with a reserved herbaceous leaning), which strongly recalls the aroma of French Lover / Bois d'Orage. In fact, if one didn't have sufficient patience, Angéliques sous la Pluie would have simply been dismissed as its extremely watered-down predecessor. However, a very significant olfactory divergence soon takes place, coercing one to reconsider any conclusions prematurely reached by this point.

Any harshness quickly subsides, disclosing a fresh and elegant aura, before a soft, sweet and slightly powdery angelica emerges. Supported by some light cedar and musk, as well as subtle remnants of juniper and pepper, the angelica is both delicate and creamy – emitting its green facets in a delightfully sophisticated manner.

As the name implies, Angéliques sous la Pluie is indeed an accurate representation of angelicas after the rain, with Jean-Claude Elléna's haiku-esque olfactory style perfectly complementing the fragility of this flower against the elements. Its longevity is rather good (around four hours) although the same can't be said for its low sillage. Thus, a heavy application might be required but one strongly feels that this may prove to be both expensive and somewhat futile.

Performing like an extravagant Eau de Cologne, one is unexpectedly in awe of its artistic gravitas but not for its failure to satisfy from a practical viewpoint. Based on this, it's very difficult to heartily recommend.

Musc Ravageur by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2000

Notes: bergamot, lavender, clove, cinnamon, vanilla, tonka bean, cedar, guaiac wood, sandalwood, musk

One simply can't understand all the praise for Musc Ravageur, for not only is it more of a gourmand offering (as opposed to a musk fragrance), not only is the name a complete misnomer, but it also doesn't smell as sexy as other gourmands or orientals within the same price range.

With an opening of lavender and clove, it soon transcends into a deliciously refined vanilla and cinnamon aroma (often compared to the smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns). But that's as good as it gets, as a very thin and synthetic musk base struggles (and later fails) to dominate. As for the woods, they remain inconspicuous right until the very end. With less than spectacular projection and lasting power, it simply fails to live up to its name by lingering close to the skin for the majority of its lifespan.

For those looking for something far more substantial and raunchy, Profumum's Fiore d'Ambra should more than satisfy the savage little beast inside.

Bigarade Concentrée by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2002

Notes: bitter orange, aldehydes, cardamom, pepper, rose, hay, cedar

There was once a time when, if you wanted a realistic orange fragrance that lasted longer than a traditional Eau de Cologne, Eau d'Orange Verte by Hermès was probably the best option. Unfortunately, its longevity was only marginally better.

With regards to Bigarade Concentrée, it could be perceived not only as an intense version of Cologne Bigarade (released one year earlier and also created by Jean-Claude Elléna), but also an improvement over the Hermès' 1979 classic (and it's interesting to note that Concentré d'Orange Verte was released two years after Bigarade Concentrée – yet another Jean-Claude Elléna interpretation of an orange scent).

One can't deny that the opening is rather stunning and lucid – an uplifting aroma of juicy ripened oranges, with the bitter astringency of freshly peeled orange rind. The sweetness is well-balanced, natural-smelling and not at all cloying. With a slightly spicy development, the rose and aldehydes provide further depth and richness. As it approaches the drydown, the hay injects a subtle animalic twist to the composition.

With a faint woody base, as well as a lingering trace of bitter orange, one envisions Bigarade Concentrée as an olfactory essay, outlining the natural and inevitable deterioration of an orange – with its plump, fresh and zesty beginnings, followed by its gradual blemished staleness, through to its fragrant and decrepit decay. Thus, even though it may come across as linear, its development is actually more intriguing upon closer inspection.

Offering gentle projection and longevity of approximately two hours, it's sharper, richer and denser than Cologne Bigarade, with a lot more tenacity. It may not be a powerhouse but it's still both a masterful and well-composed rendition, with adequate substance and very few peers.

Now, the only real issue is its exorbitant price...

Cologne Bigarade by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2001

Notes: bitter orange, aldehydes, cardamom, pepper, rose, hay, cedar

In contrast to the more intense Bigarade Concentrée, Cologne Bigarade is a less piercing orange scent. Where its successor is spicier, denser but just as refreshing, it's slightly brighter and more ethereal. Unfortunately, its performance on the skin is too ephemeral for one's tastes, being barely detectable after half an hour.

Based on its price, as well as the existence of Bigarade Concentrée, Cologne Bigarade is simply an overpriced Eau de Cologne.