A “parure” is a set of jewelry, such as a necklace, earrings, and bracelet, or even a tiara and matching earrings. Guerlain Parure has the “complete” feeling and attention to detail of a fine jewelry parure, but it isn’t as flashy as rubies and diamonds. Instead, Parure comes off as constructed to lend an air of Ritz suite elegance without drawing attention to itself.
Jean-Paul Guerlain created Parure, and its notes include plum, bergamot, greens, fruits, hesperides, lily of the valley, rose, orris, plum, lilac, jasmine, jonquil, narcissus, oakmoss, spices, amber, leather and patchouli. Parure was released in 1975, but you know that Ritz suite I just mentioned? I see it in the early 1960s, with a woman crushing out her cigarette before reaching for wrist-length white gloves and a crisp-edged handbag that snaps shut with a click.
In a few words, Parure is a dry rose chypre with hints of leather and plum. My bottle of Eau de Cologne is at least 25 years old. Its top has dulled, and it has undoubtedly lost some of its sparkle. Still, Parure’s heart smells like a potpourri of dry rose petals, cold plum skin, jasmine, a pinch of baking spice, and the fusty mineral-like scent of moss and leather that blends so well with cigarette ash. Despite this, the fragrance exudes a clean, expensive feel. Parure doesn’t sweeten on my skin, even as it wears down. Its sillage stays a few hands’ width from my skin and never intrudes.
Despite the plum and flowers, no one could call Parure a fruity floral. Unlike Guerlain Nahéma, Parure’s rose isn’t exuberant, and unlike another Guerlain rose, Chant d’Arômes, there’s nothing particularly tender about it, either. Parure smells tailor-made for a self-possessed cabinet minister’s wife in the age of glossy chignons and pumps that click-clack across the floor. Her espresso cup wears a kiss of dark pink lipstick, and you’ll never break her habit of the occasional cigarette. She has great taste — no doubt about that — but her photo won’t show up in the tabloids anytime soon.
Parure isn’t me, and I’m not even sure I’d want to be her, but she fascinates me all the same. I admire her Vivier pumps and firm grip of protocol. Secretly, I think I have more fun, but that might be envy talking.
Guerlain Parure is discontinued.
Perfect visual.
I love how you can so perfectly describe a perfume in a serie of visual images instead of just olfactive descriptions.
Having never had a chance to smell Parure, my mind brings me automatically to my Perles de Lalique, another dry rose chypre.
Bravo!
Thank you! You’re very kind. Writing about scent can easily fall into the “dancing about architecture” trap, but to me fragrance really does cast a mood, and that mood or character can be described in so many ways.
(Besides that, I’m no perfumer, so it’s a lot easier if I don’t have to write a lot about the tricky aspects of different notes.)
This has gone RIGHT to the top of my must-smell list. I think I’ll always be a sucker for Guerlains (even the ones that blogs tend to pan) and this sounds like a winner. Mmmmmm.
Guerlain is must-smell for me, too–especially the older ones.
I know I have a small decant of Parure at home… now I can’t wait to get home and test it. I have no recall of this or how it smells on me. Yikes! I need to test this asap – I need to feel a little sophistication right now!
I had forgotten about mine, too, until I needed to find something–quick!–to review for today.
“The fragrance exudes a clean, expensive feel. ” Love that! I see that oak moss has been added to it. I’m digging that particular note lately.
Like I always say, if you don’t have a million bucks, at least you can smell like it. I would love to get a sample of this.
I can definitely smell the moss in the EdT, and the leather, too. And what to wear to “smell like a million bucks” is a great idea for a post!
That would be an awesome post.
I would have my pen and pad ready to copy all of them. That would be fun!
Okay, I’m on it! I’ll start my list now.
“Parure isn’t me, and I’m not even sure I’d want to be her, but she fascinates me all the same.” That made my day and you put so eloquently how I feel about a lot of the older Guerlain’s I have smelled. Your description though made me think this scent could perhaps be the essence of someone like Lady Diana Cooper or Babe Paley in a bottle, which fascinates me. Thanks for the wonderful review!
I could look at photos of both of those women for hours! The Mitford sisters, too. And the rest of Capote’s “swans.”
I recall reading an article some time ago that one of the Sex and the City actresses (sorry, can’t remember which one) was a huge devotee of this fragrance. She talked about how she bought every bottle of it she ran across, “cornering the market” was how she phrased it.
This is appropo of nothing, really, but thought I’d share.
That was Kim Catrall–I remember thinking that I’d never heard of Parure before.
Wow. I definitely wouldn’t think of Parure for Samantha, but for Kim Catrall? Who knows?
Fascinating! It really doesn’t smell like Sex in the City to me, but I guess its actresses can have their own lives and personalities.
Here you go, everything you need to know about celebrities and their signature perfumes:
http://www.celebrityfragranceguide.com/
Well, there goes the evening…
Great imagery, Angela! now must smell this!
Let me know what you think if you do!
Brilliant review. Best of yours I’ve read.
My gosh, thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Another beautiful visual review Angela.
To me this is exactly what a perfume does also. It sparks a little something in my world of imagination and brings forth an emotion in which I can then experience, with more than just my sense of smell.
This sounds like something to try for sure.
On a side note, I have yet to try Nah éma! Its been on my “to-smell” list for as long as I can remember! My Guerlain just seems to be focused on pushing La Petit Robe Noire and ditch everything else behind
The SA told me today that Flora Nymphea is apparently discontinued…it’s one of my favourite Allegorias so I am sad about that too (not to mention the rather bland Limon Verde…)
I was sitting at my dining room table last week and smelled something familiar–Nahéma! Then I realized it was the fragrance of a vase of Bourbon roses next to a bowl of overripe peaches. What a fabulous combination.
Thank you Angela! I can practically “smell” it! It is a fabulous combination indeed and right down my alley
Let me know what you think if you do try it!
Parure is so me. It is a chypre above all else and in the best possible way, second only to Mitsouko. The dryness translates into strictness of character and austerity. And yes, click-clack of the hills across the floor together with traces of red lipstick – all of it is so me… Now I just need to get hold of that pure perfume formulation, but I am not a minister wife, so that will have to wait until better times…
I bet the parfum is divine! I’ve never smelled it, but it would be worth the trouble to seek out, I’m sure.
Wonderful! This was my late grandmother’s scent in parfum.I love the empty bottle that I sniff to remind me of her. You could be desribing her here. Last saturday of each month was our shopping in the
city day. Me in t-strap patent leather shoes and pinafore dress, her in hat and white gloves. We would shop the grand old department stores, linen hanky, handbag, dresses for her, a new Barbie doll for me. We would finish the day with lunch or tea in one of the grand dining rooms the stores used to have. Thanks for the wonderful thoughts.
That sounds like a perfectly Parure day! What a wonderful memory.
Sorry, I should add that my mother recently gave me her miink stole still perfectly wrapped that still smells like Parure.
Wow! That’s a terrific present. I can imagine all the memories it brings back.
Thankyou Angela. You have a wonderful way with words. Just emailed my mom about this post and she told me that Parure was the only perfume she bought for herself, my grandfather always gifting fragrance to her. Kind of a big deal my mom said. On a side note that was the seventies but she wore hat and gloves till the day she passed at 100 years old. She was a real “dame”. Thanks again!
A marvelous addendum to the story. Thank you.
People lucky enough to own a FB of Cuir de Lancome might remember that it comes with a little leaflet with a story describing a beautiful woman arriving at a hotel lobby, pausing at a side table table while she peels off a leather glove to write a quick note to someone. There’s a vase of flowers next to her. Something like that; can’t remember the details (but cigarettes are not mentioned
). This lady sounds like a younger and perhaps sexier cousin of your Parure lady. Cuir de Lancome lives elegantly and expensively but she’s got better things to do on the weekend than cook the perfect bouillabaisse for her boring husband.
I love concocting stories for perfumes, and I like your Cuir de Lancome / Parure character comparison!
Parure is one of my favorite Guerlains, and one of the few that I could probably wear every day without getting sick of it. It feels seasonless to me–not so heavy as to be smothering in summer, but not so light as to disappear in the winter. I have a mostly full bottle of the EdP, which I wear only occasionally, as I don’t expect to ever own any more of it.
I don’t worry about whether or not a perfume is “me” in the sense you describe. If I did, there would probably be almost no perfume I could wear. Is there a perfume that conjures up “middle-aged woman who wears no makeup, dresses in jeans and T-shirts and works in the laboratory of an oil refinery”? For me, whether or not a perfume is “me” is simply a matter of whether or not I like it and enjoy wearing it. I like Parure quite a lot, and I wish I would have bought more of it–or maybe a bottle of extrait–while it was in production and available for real-world prices.
Oh, I still wear Parure from time to time, even thought it isn’t me. In fact, I guess most of my fragrances are costumes to some extent. That’s the fun of it! (Although now I’m trying to think of a good fragrance to describe you…)
It really is a shame that the fragrance market hasn’t produced more for the science-nerd-in-jeans crowd.
I am the nerdiest of nerds and prefer my scent to reflect my inner femme fatale; hence the Amouage Gold at the dog park! Although I suppose a scent smelling of books, ink, circuit boards, and lab glass might be pretty cool.
Byredo has an ink scent, so that’s a step in the right direction. Still, honoring your inner femme fatale is an absolute must.
Yeah, I tend to put some va-va-voom in my fragrance wardrobe as well. Must fulfill a need for balance.
I hear you, sister.
Hmm. I wonder if the Escentric (sp? too lazy to check) Molecule collection would count?
And don’t forget Shirtless Kirk!
I think I just spit out a full mouth of tea at that!
This fragrance has been “me” since I first smelled it in the 70’s. It was the first time I purchased a nice scent for myself and certainly the first time I bought an extrait. $15 for a quarter ounce. Can you believe it? And, the bottle was equally beautiful. Still have it.
I was lucky enough to score two bee bottle testers on ebay a few years back. I dole it out for special occasions or when I need to create one.
We seem to shy away from beautiful these days. Not sure why. While I can understand why this might not be for everyone, it certainly steps up and declares its beauty.
Wow–$15 for a quarter ounce! Fabulous. No matter what $15 meant then. You’re lucky to still have the bottle.
I wonder if Guerlain will ever do with Parure what it’s done with some of its older fragrances and reissue it with a fancy new name as a limited edition? Of course, it would be heinously expensive.
Is there any way they *could* reissue it, with all the restrictions on oakmoss these days?
I wonder if they’d have to do one of those oakmoss stand-ins that barely suggest oakmoss? It wouldn’t be the same. But that seems to be where the trend lies…
I had a small sample of this, and it took at least three wearings for me to finally admit that I disliked it INTENSELY. There is just something about chypres with fruit that makes me queasy. Can’t manage them… I keep trying, thinking I might find the exception.
However, Parure is both luxurious and very very austerely restrained, a nice sort of contradiction in terms. I can see why it had so many devotees.
One thing I love about you, Mals, is that you always give your opinion straight on. It’s especially fabulous for other readers who have pegged you as a scent twin–or evil scent twin. Thank you!
Open mouth, insert foot… Yep. Sounds like me.
I should probably always say that I never claimed to have good taste. I just like what I like (and don’t like what I don’t like, of course), and sometimes there’s no good reason for it.
That’s not what I mean, and you know it! No pussy-footing around is more like it, and it’s great.
After this beautiful review, I’ve added Parure to my growing list of vintage Guerlains to try. If only there was a vintage Guerlain retreat, so that I could concentrate all this smelling into one weekend! Le sigh…
I’d sign up for the retreat in a heartbeat!
Fabulous idea.
Putting into words what something as ethereal and vague as a scent is, is a real talent and you have it Angela! Conjuring up images of a bygone elegant era, transports us so that we may only imagine what Parure smells like. Too bad there’s no app—yet that allows us to smell our computer screen!
It seems like it’s only a matter of time before we DO have the app! I’d love to dial in some gorgeous old fragrances, like Iris Gris.