There is a story in our family about my first grade parent-teacher interview. The excellent, jolly woman who taught my class reported I was doing well, but confessed to my mother that she experienced considerable anxiety when introducing what she called "controversial topics". Mom, a teacher herself, did not ask which first grade topics these could possibly be, and she did not encourage the woman to elaborate. She was already familiar with what my brothers later named "the squinty face". She knew well my favorite phrase: "Now, wait a minute..." (No doubt this was preferable to a tic I developed later: "You mean to tell me...?!") Most importantly, both my parents had learned to avoid being drawn into discussions on, say, the vagaries of English spelling, the habits and duties of Santa Claus, or the basic road safety rules a young lady of six might be expected to follow. For years, I described myself as a contrarian. Now Christopher Hitchens has tried to make it hip to be a young contrarian, and I've decided to start taking popular, rather non-committal stances on current issues. It's hard to get rid of the squinting, though.
Old habits die hard, then, and in the interests of both truth and disagreeing with people, I have found myself defending Perfumes: The Guide on points of accuracy and style in various online forums. Still, this sentence from Luca Turin's review of Caldey Island Lavender gives me pause: "Lavender is summer wind made smell, and the best lavender compositions are, in my opinion, the ones from which other elements are absent, and only endlessly blue daylight air remains." Well, despite having never sampled the Caldey Island Lavender, I must disagree. (I have found that to properly enter into the spirit of arguing, you must be prepared to dispense right away with proper research.) Leaving aside the blue air — surely wind can't be blue? And air is merely stationary wind? — I fail to see how Guerlain Jicky would fit into his best lavenders category. And any best lavenders category that excludes Jicky cuts no mustard with me. Let us discuss a list of other surpassingly wonderful complex lavenders, just to be difficult.
Parfums de Nicolaï Nicolaï pour Homme: One of my favorite masculines, this is a lavender composition in which numerous other elements are present and sounding at once. Certainly from the note list, which includes galbanum, orange, lentisc, mint, geranium, jasmine, moss, amber, spruce, cedar, tobacco, benzoin and labdanum in addition to lavender, it may seem that the palette is crowded. But we are in the skilled hands of Patricia de Nicolaï here. I have always found Nicolaï's compositions to have a particularly visual effect, and this fragrance is one in which the light is ever-changing, a lavender as seen through mist or smoke. As we gracefully slip through the scent spectrum from cool to warm and musky, a forest spotlight falls on different notes: bone-china galbanum, the sweet, green gum of lentisc, an oddly apple-like orange, airy mint, the undergrowth rustle of moss, wood smoke, an earthy thrum of amber... and all the while, different shades of lavender. Rather than a feel-good breeze, I find Nicolaï pour Homme to be a melancholy fragrance. It makes me think of what would have happened if Turner had painted forests, instead of the sea. Highly recommended.
Parfums de Nicolaï Maharadjah: A wholly different approach to lavender here, but I find it equally interesting (if not as appealing to me). The scent starts with a blast of very herbal lavender and then hot spices — cinnamon, clove — start to roast underneath. I'm not sure if the Maharadjah lamp oil or the personal fragrance came first, but, in any case, this feels like a fully-fleshed perfume, sensual and direct.
Aveda Men Pure-formance: Other than a truly awful name, this natural and organic spray has a suave, rounded feel to it. There is none of the cramped, headshop quality natural compositions sometimes have, and the lasting power is extraordinary for a fragrance in this genre. Starting with bright citrus notes, green lavender and understated herbs, this eventually morphs into a debonair vetiver, warm and smoky. Nevertheless, the base retains a cheerful mintiness — very nice.
Jean Patou Moment Suprême: To quote myself, Moment Suprême has "the tactile feel of nylons, simultaneously silky and textured". The lavender here gives the raspy feel, as well as a bit of the static you get from pantyhose. The amber gives the body-warmth to this fragrance, that touch of old-fashioned richness and beauty that you find in vintage Rochas Femme. An irreplaceable classic by Henri Alméras, now sadly rare and expensive due to discontinuation.
Vero Profumo Kiki: It is almost as if natural perfumers must give their scents silly names. Luckily, Vero Kern saves all the real fun for her fragrances. Out of her trio, I admire the dry, farm-bouquet Onda, but would save my (thousands of) pennies for either the classical, smooth-limbed beauty of Rubj or this freaky lavender. Like some kind of Halloween prank, Kiki smells like a combination of shaving foam and caramel-dipped apples. I love it.
Note: image is Drying Lavender [cropped] by margolove at flickr; some rights reserved.
A great post. I love lavender and can definitely see both sides of the issue. On the one hand, sometimes there’s nothing better than a scent taking you straight to that hilltop in Provence, breathing in the sun, air and lavender all around you. On the other, lavender makes complex perfumes so much more interesting! I’m going to need to try the Caldi Island Lavender and the Vero Profumo Kiki for sure.
Well, yes, I need to try the Caldy Island, too. 😉 Thanks for the kind words. Kiki is breathtakingly expensive, like so many all-nautral perfumes, but it comes in a darling bottle and is one of the few such niche naturals I would fork out for. It’s just very different, and lovely.
Great post, Erin! Kiki is my favorite from Vero Profumo, the drydown reminds me of the middle of TM Angel without the one-two knockout punch quality that Angel is so famous for.
I’m surprised that Andy Tauer’s Reverie au Jardin didn’t make your list. I’ve tested it more than once and I still haven’t decided if I like it, which is strange for me.
M, that is a very perceptive comment about Kiki! I think you are abolsutely right there, very Angel-like, fruity-earthy-sweet, but with a quiet musk instead of all the pathcouli. Interesting…
Funny, like you, I never quite made my mind up about Reverie au Jardin. I think, in the end, it was too cold and stone-like for me. I was expecting something airier or more sun-roasted, but it is by no means a bad fragrance – just not my favourite from Andy.
Speaking of contrary…this was actually my favorite Andy, and I don’t typically like lavendar. I think L’Air was maybe too dry for me.
It is very, very dry and warm. Quite dissimilar to Reverie, actually.
I adore Reverie au Jardin – it was such a nice surprise after all his powerhouse stuff. I don’t think it is cold at all, just kind of spring breeze-y. It becomes part of my body in an instant, all familiar and comforting.
Well, clearly it has its fans! I didn’t dislike it, I just felt oddly unmoved by it. Generally, Tauer perfumes have a profound effect on me, particularly L’air and Lonestar Memories.
Eau de Cartier is a great multifacted fragrance with lavender. I’m actually not a huge fan of frags that scream lavender– I appreciate it more when it’s within its a whisper in the blend, giving that clean, happy, cool aspect to the frag.
In typical contrarian fashion, lavender is one my favourite notes, but of course I know that many perfume obsessives are opposed to it. I love mango, cumin, lime, heliotropin and anise, too. But I think I like patchouli like you enjoy lavender – as an accent, rather than a base.
I think maybe that’s how I feel about Tuberose. On it’s own, it makes me gag— but I’ve discovered it hidden in several of my favorite frags when I looked up the notes.
Jasmine is like this for me….
I love Eau de Cartier, too. Of the fragrances I own and love, I see that only four of them contain lavender as a listed note. Besides Eau de Cartier, they include Li Altarelli, Ambre Precieux, and Belle en Rykiel. So I guess count me as one who sometimes likes lavender as part of a composition!
I really enjoyed your article Erin, and I fully support contrarianism. Just not in the case of lavender-heavy fragrances! 😉
Ambre Precieux has lavender? That surprises me – good research there! 🙂 AP is a great scent. I find the lavender in Belle is quite prominent, so you’re getting into the lavender groove there.
This is great–you just gave words to something I had been toying with in my own head. There are a lot of scents that I think I don’t like, but the truth is, I’m not crazy about anything that’s a single-note fragrance. And honestly, a lavender soliflore just makes me think “massage oil.” Nice, but not what I want to wear as a perfume.
Great, very well-written post. Made me smile. 🙂 See, there, I did it again.
Massage oil – exactly. There used to be an Origins sleepy-time line with lavender and a light vanilla, and every time I try a lavender soliflore, I feel vaguely as if I’m nodding off. Great sometimes, but not for when you’re driving….
And thanks!
My shoulders tense up after an hour of driving and I carry a “lavender pony” – floppy horse stuffed with lavender that drapes on your shoulders, the weight relaxing the muscles and the lavender – well, putting you to sleep at the wheel. I have to rip it off the minute I feel the drowsiness coming on. That herb is just amazing.
Yikes, it sounds wonderful – but even the thought of it made me yawn. I’d be an accident waiting to happen.
I’m *not* a lavender fan – something about it, even in natural flower-form, gives me horrible thumping headaches.
But I really enjoyed the post. I can see you now, with your “you better not be having me on” squinty face… I have a kid like that, who has to question absolutely everything. (He’s great, but you have to deal with his skepticism.)
I know lavender is not a widely loved note – although I generally do think of it as therapeutic! Odd that it gives you a headache, I wonder what’s responsible for that? Are there common synthetic substitutes for lavender, I wonder?
Yes, it can be difficult to deal with skepticism in a child. Strangely, my younger (middle) brother was an oddly innocent/gullible child. He got beat up at school at twelve, defending Santa’s honor, because my mom was afraid to tell him after she’d had to tell me at four or something…
I wouldn’t think so, as lavender essential oil is one of the few natural fragrance oils that is safe for the body.
That’s what I thought. (And it can be cheap…) Hmm.
Supposedly so, but even the stuff that’s labeled as “organic, natural, etc.” hits me with an enormous hammer right between the eyes. And as I said, smelling the flower itself gives me a headache.
“Safe” might not necessarily mean “beneficial for EVERYone.”
You’re not alone, mals. Lavender = huge, pounding headache for me. I don’t know if this is considered an allergic reaction or not. I have allergies and when I’ve been around fields of lavender, I do have to have my Nasonex and Claritin handy. But when I’m exposed to lavender in perfume form, it’s more like a migraine.
Oh, and lavender positively ruined Czech & Speake’s Frankinsence and Myrrh for me.
What a shame! Lavender in the “wild” is one of those smells that makes me feel like I could breathe in forever. There are really no smells that give me a headache, though I have a weak gag reflex and can make myself come close to upchucking even thinking about a bad smell….
Speaking as a person who does suffer from allergies, headache is *not* an allergic reaction, medically speaking. Closure of airways and skin reactions are typical allergic reactions. My allergies are generally hay fever type, and there’s a ton of things I’m allergic to (including, sadly, chocolate and grass), but I don’t have anaphylactic-shock, life-threatening allergies to anything, knock wood. I’ll put up with some sniffles for Ghirardelli…
I generally like lavender and am a huge Jicky fan. I’m embarrassed to say that I haven’t tried any of the rest of the frags in your list (though I’ve always wanted to try the whole Vero line…though they are way spendy).
I have, on the other hand, tried Caldey Island Lavender on the basis of Luca Turin’s review, no less. It’s a very, very nice lavender soliflore, with a subtle, unobtrusive white musk base. Despite that base, it is terribly fleeting. However, it costs next to nothing, so it’s definitely worth seeking out if you’re a lavender fan.
Sorry, PC! See my reponse to you below monstabunny’s comment.
I got a decant of the Caldey Lavender based on LT’s review, and found I disagreed with him (as I do pretty often, despite loving his writing). I thought the Caldey too spare and evocative of nothing. It has no emotional component. The lavender I keep returning to is Brin de Reglisse which has much more (quiet) drama going on.
I whole-heartedly agree with your first sentence (third clause!) And I was going to include Brin de Reglisse in this list – I like it much more than Tania did in the Guide. It is very fleeting, but I found it almost moving, very emotionally-charged, as you say. Hardly an “academic exercise”…
Thanks for the review! This is similar to what Lee had to say about Caldy Island on Perfume Posse. I’ll have to bite the bullet and research after my fightin’ words….
Vero perfumes certainly do not cost next to nothing, but they’re absolutely worth trying.
My fave lavender (a modest one) is Caron Pour Homme – makes me want to spray throughout the house!
Caron PH is beautifully, masterfully simple, and is part of the Holy Trinity of Caron masculines for me.
I do love lavender, but I’m still searching for a lavender fragrance that enthralls me. Gris Clair is pretty good — the only SL I’ve tried so far that I’ve liked — but a bit too honeyed for my taste. And I’ve only ever sniffed Jicky (Guerlain claimed they don’t do samples!), but it’s definitely a contender.
You aren’t Russian by any chance, are you? My father always tells me that my impossibly contrarian bent is so very Russian — and therefore from my mother’s side!
I so love Jicky on paper. At Nordstrom I sprayed it on a strip and had to go sit down in one of their blue velvet chairs with it pressed to my nose. I’ve never been more annoyed with the skin results of a scent in my life. I have described it on here before as slightly floral rotting pond water.
Ah, the ol’ stagnant water comparison. It’s never a good thing, is it? Sorry your experience with Jicky didn’t work out. Did you try the parfum? Or the PdT (the concentration I wear)? They’re sometimes described as a little more stagnant or barfy…
I have a sample of PDT. What is funny is that I was so determined for it to work that I still ordered a sample after my store experience!
Sometimes such persistence can succeed. I can think of a number of perfumes that disgusted me at first sniff that I’ve grown to love.
I smelled the parfum on paper, and it was glorious. Rotting pond water, not so much…
The parfum is very civety, which might smell stagnant to some, I guess. To me, it’s not vegetal or rotting, but more rank and animal.
Honeyed, eh? Haven’t tried it in a while, just remembering find it quite powerful. Encens et Lavande I find too, I don’t know… vegetal. Does that make sense?
My background is Scottish, which may be similar to being Russian in this way (and not many others). Being Russian is so cool in that it seems to come with its own whole temperment and soul…
Gris Clair is indeed powerful, but gently so — I just happen to be a sugar-phobe. And Encens et Lavande smells horribly cheap and nasty on me, thereby saving me a bundle of money.
Ah, the Russian soul… Kind of similar to the Irish, in a way — and not just the boozing part 😉 . Scots are supposed to be stubborn, right?
I liked Gris Clair, I think. It had that burnt tungsten smell you get off popped lightbulbs. I just must be sensitive to that, because I perceive that as very strong. There’s a CdG perfume that has it, too…
I love Serge Lutens Encens et Lavande, and yesterday arrived Dior Eau Noire.
I slept in a heavenly cloud…
Ahh! Eau Noire is one of my all-time faves, and only got bumped from my lists because I’ve written about it so many times before. By now, it may be clear to readers of my lists that I think just about everything is improved by immortelle….
Erin, I love this review!
Like so many others, I am not a huge lavender fan either. However, I do like PdN’s Maharanih. Do you know how it compares to her Maharadjah? And, I do think Kiki is delightfully playful and I love the name, but my heart belongs to Onda.
On another lavender note (pun intended), have you sniffed the Snuggle sandalwood-lavender fabric softener in the purple bottle? I adore it and wish that someone would make it into a perfume!
R, thanks so much. Maharanih is one of my fave Nicolaïs, but it’s not particularly similar to Maharadja. Their drydowns are both smooth, but otherwise the lavender is much more prominent in Maharadja. I think you might like it less….
That Snuggle sounds wonderful. Perhaps I’ll make the switch to that, as my daughter appears to have developed a reaction to the softener I’m currently using…
Erin, this post is hilarious. I still resist all kinds of sensible things on principle, but I’ve learned to fool people into thinking I’m easygoing (well, it works for a while).
I enjoy lavender in most forms, although I don’t really like the charred version in Brin de Reglisse. Haven’t tried any of these perfumes, but I’m definitely attracted to Moment Supreme, not least because it’s completely unattainable. We always want the ones we can’t have…
Thanks. I’m easygoing about important things, but quite a stickler about the little stuff. Good to have around in an emergency, but squinting my way through the day-to-day…
Good luck with the Moment Supreme! Every perfume lover has a version of the winning-the-lottery dream, and mine is finding a full, cheap bottle of Moment Supreme in a discount store with a disinterested owner.
“It makes me think of what would have happened if Turner had painted forests, instead of the sea.” That was beautifully said, and makes me want to sample it really bad.
I love lavender itself but haven’t yet learned to love it in fragrance. Will keep trying.
Interesting – it seems many people that like the flower itself, don’t enjoy lavender as a perfume ingredient. And thanks! You should certainly sample it, particularly if you like Caron’s Third Man, which has a similar drydown.
Hi Erin. Nice topic. But I have to say I’m baffled by lavender in perfumery because when it’s listed as a note, it never reminds me of real lavender in all its varieties, which to me is a somewhat pungent, herbaceous, and sometimes almost mentholated thing. A lot of people landscape with lavender (and rosemary) here in Santa Barbara, and don’t tell anyone, but I often pluck a few leaves as I’m walking by a yard and sniff them as I continue my walk.
So anyway, in perfumery: I finally recently tried Jicky, and I’m not sure I would have known that it was primarily a lavender. Also, I was in love with Lancome Hypnose Homme for awhile, and it’s very warm and ambery but I don’t detect the lavender as lavender — my nose needs training!
Oh, I forgot to mention that I do have “Lavande et Encens” on my “must smell someday” list.
I’m terrible at the “guess that smell” game. I’m getting better, but I’m surprised to learn today that MPG Ambre Precieux contains lavender! So, you never know where it might be lurking….
Lovely post and one of my favorite notes, when it’s done right. Encens et Lavande is bottled calm to me, but Gris Clair is the first SL to make me smell the Loutens magic. I can’t wear it often as it’s continuous morphing takes up much of my concentration for hours, but I love it. Caron Pour Homme as well, and I just got a sample of Antiheroes from Luckyscent that I really like, too. Wish the *lavender* part of fragrances lasted longer…..
Thanks! Antiheroes was one I wanted to smell before I wrote this list, but all the ELdO scents have been discounted and sold off at the only place in my town that carried them. I remember Je Suis un Homme and that’s it from the masculines. And yes, lavender can be sadly fleeting.
Hi Erin! Thank you for your entertaining story/review. 🙂 As a gardening buff and potpourri maker, lavender is a most cherished herb and scent. I have a plant in the front flower bed that has been going strong now for 8 years. It’s an impressive specimen – enormous – and I love that it always has a wonderful scent, whether it’s in bloom or not. The stems and leaves smell almost as wonderful as the flowers [what a generous plant!]. My husband and I can’t seem to walk by without a little caress. However – I haven’t come across a lavender based perfume that appeals to me which always seemed odd to me. I now see that I’m certainly not alone in feeling that way.
Yes, that seems to be a common phenomenon. I’m not sure I’d have much time for fussing and dabbing if I had such a magnificent plant outside my home.
Erin –terrific post. I have some wonderful lavender growing right now in my back yard…when I crush them with some mint leaves into green tea it is a little bit of heaven. I can’t wear it, but it always makes me smile.
Well, now that sounds just heavenly. (Love my mint and teas, too.) If only I had a garden… I’m embarrassed to report that my urban living suits me, though. Weed digging and yard work was the ultimate punishment in my household growing up, and now I have a sad aversion to gardening.
I thought lavender was a note I could safely consign to the aromatherapy shelf. Now I see that it’s something else I’ll need to smell my way through next time I find my way to a decent perfume counter. Until then, I’ll have to settle for my Mrs. Meyer’s lavender dish-washing soap, a recent happy discovery, Thanks, Erin, for the inspiration!
Between the Mrs. Meyer’s and the Snuggle fabric softener listed by violetnoir above, I think chore time at my house could get a lot nicer!
I see that nobody has mentioned Penhaligons Lavandula, which for some incomprehensible reason is marketed as a women’s scent but is actually a bracing men’s lavender. It’s gorgeous–just enough camphor, just enough greenery, a little dab of soap but not enough to bring it into barbershop territory, and a musky-ambery base. It’s so good!
If you want a cheap basic lavender, I also love Yves Rocher Lavender Moisturizing Oil (which can also be used as a bath oil and a perfume) and Demeter Lavender, about $20 each and well worth it.
Hey, I’m always up for the cheap stuff. And do you mean the new Demeter Naturals (LE) line Lavender, or a previous one? I found the new Natural one a bit sharp. The Geranium one seemed note very geranium-ish, too, which is another of my fave notes, so that’s a shame. Generally, however, I really enjoy the less cocktail-oriented Demeters.
I meant the previous one, the regular cologne version of Lavender. It is really very good, if you aren’t expecting a layered, composed fragrance but will settle for a beautifully simple, if typically Demeter-brief, lavender. I like complex, interesting lavenders like Gris Clair from time to time, the sort of thing that makes you think, but mostly when I want lavender I want it straight up.
Demeter Lavender, by the way, mixes extremely well with their Vetiver.
Ah, so you are agree with the Luca line here, then. No harm, no foul… though, of course, you are wrong. 😉
Hi Erin, aren’t contrarians great!!
Being a very selfish perfume lover, I used to categorise lavender as either “tourist lavender farm” or masculine, and find it of no interest. Then I smelled Kiki, and changed my mind. Love that scent! Thanks to you and other commenters for pointing me toward some new lavenders to try.
That Kiki really is fabulous stuff, so glad to hear it converted you. I hoped Rubj would do the same for me with orange blossom, but no luck with that so far. Smells great in Rubj, but not elsewhere 😉
I was hoping to see Kiki on this list! Strangely amazing, I agree. It makes me want to candy some lavender and see if I get Kiki. I also very much like C&S Oxford and Cambridge, as well as the classic Jicky. The rest of your list I need to try.
I’ve had candied lavender with pear sorbet and the combination is *amazing*. Highly recommended. Oxford & Cambridge is great, too. Have you tried By Kilian’s A Taste of Heaven? Not really my favorite, but a well-done scent, and similar to the O & C in that it balances lavender with oakmoss.
The only lavender I can tolerate without a headache is Thymes Lavender Cologne. It contains “soft velvet lavender, rosewood, clary sage and violet leaf.” It is inexpensive and lasts a long time on my skin.
I love rosewood and clary sage, so I’ll have to try that one.
Lavender! i am on a lavender kick this year, so I am enjoying several lavender-based fragrances. First of all: Serge Lutens. Encens et Lavande – rich, spicy, lavender with a deep, deep heart. This is a bight-purple lavender that is very intense and artistic. Gris Clair – quiet, calming lavnder. It’s smoky, cool and I love both of Lutens’ versions of lavender flower. Lavandula by Penhaligon’s is just very true to it’s original note, that of the lavender flower.Spicy, but not too much, quiet but not too calm… it’s just a lavender, clean, breezy, slightly spicy fragrance. I love all three of them!!! Erin, I loved Your article by the way:))
Thanks! That’s about the third time Lavandula has come up, and I haven’t tried it, so I will have to get me to yonder Penhaglion’s emporium. I prefer Gris Clair to E et L, I think, but it’s a while since I sampled either of them. I would be sort of surprised to learn Bois et Musc has no lavender in it, too. Not on the “official” note list, though…
If Gris Clair is a beautiful but shy princess, then Encens et Lavande is a confident, gorgeous queen:)) Both are actually artistic approaches. Lavandula on the other hand is a is just a true lavender-based scent. You could call it Lavandula or even just Eau De Lavender.
Another way in which you differ from turin is in how you interpret your odor induced synesthesia.
Turin’s is somewhat about shape, but mostly it involves color. Such as the blue sky. How he calls jardin sur le nil a flat green thing or something like that.
His brain interprets the fragrance as a color and shape to lesser extent.
Yours, if I can be so presumptuous, is about the shape and texture. Giving things a descriptor of being rounded and raspy is just your brain’s way of interpreting fragrances. If you have fragrance notes, check them. Perhaps you will end up seeing descriptors that might be similar to how a blind person would describe clothing. Smooth, flat, rough, prickly, etc.
It’s just that your brain interprets input from your sense of smell and your sense of touch in a similar way or area (not a neuroscientist).
Other people have different ways of processing things. What you may call raspy I might describe as a light tan cylinder that shoots to my left.
It’s interesting because this may have a lot to do with why you are better than average at being able to understand the nuances of smell. There is more than one association that you can make to a fragrance (how it smells, and the texture of how it smells). I’ll try to stop myself from writing a novel.
It’s a really interesting thing- it helps to explain a lot. Including the blank look of non-comprehension that cross people’s faces whenever you try and show how one fragrance is “rounder” or more “rough/smooth” than another.
It’s personal, beautiful, and to a large extent untranslatable. It’s totally yours. It’s olfactive synesthesia.
OG, very interesting. I occasionally get a smell-colour association, but I must confess that I’m not a very visually-oriented person, so I’m sure you’re right about me. I often shut my eyes to concentrate, for example. I assumed that this is because I’m very aural: I learn best by listening, I have a fear of going deaf, I’m easily disoriented by sounds, etc. I have no talent for music, though, so it may be a connection to language thing, a so-called left-brainedness. Certainly, as you suggest, I am drawn to the physical, material presence of objects. I carry smooth stones, etc. in my pockets. I think you might have me nailed…
Fabulous post…it’s been a while since I’ve been drawn in and concentrated so hard. I’m curious to see how my impressions stack against yours, of course. 🙂 I am in the midst of a transition…as a gardener, and then as a person who dabbled in aromatherapy, lavender has certain connotations/ways of being taken in. But I very much enjoy certain combinations/compositions in perfume which are absolutely NOT necessarily about eliciting emotional and/or physical responses…at least not in the sense the first two venues suggest.
Tauer Reverie Au Jardin, however, was one of the Major Trio that completely launched me down the perfume rabbit hole. So it may be that lavender is a pathway that branches into different ways of experiencing olfactory input. I absolutely got Reverie Au Jardin as a perfume, yet part of that was the way it didn’t forget lavender’s connection to the earth.
Interestingly, I have yet to find a complex use of lavender that I like… BUT…was out sniffing with a fellow perfume fiend-friend the other day, and she offered Maharadjah. It was a “hit,” but given that it was a sniffing orgy, I knew I would have to come back to it to truly give it its due. Thanks to you, it moves to the top of the explore list. 🙂
S, have you tried the Nicolai Pour Homme? I can’t remember if I sent you some. It manys ways, it’s similar to Reverie au Jardin – which is why I find it so difficult to understand my lack of connection to RaJ. Perhaps my experience with it simply did not match my prior understanding of what it smelled like, based on March’s review on PP of one of the mods that smelled very roasted, like lavender out of the sun-drenched, wind-swept fields. It’s puzzling to me, in any case. If your perfume obsession is owed partly to Reverie, then I owe the scent more than I knew, and I will certainly have to sample it again. It’s had a lot of love here the last two days. Wish I was near you to have a sniffing orgy together!
I’ve always been wary of lavender as a scent – my mother went through a phase of smothering herself in essential oils when i was a teenager, and I invariably associate the smell with that. Also with old ladies and lavender pouches. Pot pourri. You know the score! Basically, it was also an old lady scent or an essential oil.
However, Jicky completely transformed my relationship with lavender by re-introducing it to me as a fragrance note. It adds in incredible earthy, fresh zing to the civet and vanilla. And even though Jicky is the oldest perfume still in production (i think?!?) it is more surprising and unique than most contemporary frags out there.
I just purchased 30ml of Jicky Parfum on ebay for a ridiculously reasonable price! It is a spray tester bottle used in department stores, so does not come with a lid. Any advice on where to find a lid that will fit?!?!?
Ah, this is a problem I often have myself – the missing lid! What shape is your parfum bottle? If it is the square, plain bottle, you may have luck with almost anything, but the champagne-cork model could be difficult to replace. Glad to have another Jicky lover here…