French niche line Lubin recently launched Grisette, a new feminine fragrance with notes of grapefruit, bergamot, rose, iris, incense, cedar, musk, amber and vanilla. Grisette was named for the French Belle Epoque term for young working-class women who took a bohemian approach to love. Lubin frequently makes historical and cultural references in its fragrances, and this one sounded right up my Montmartre alley.
Unfortunately (for me, at least), Grisette evokes the eighties — the 1980s, that is, not the 1880s. It opens with some fizzy pink grapefruit, followed by a powdery pink rose and a heavy dose of aldehydes. A non-perfumista friend of mine who took a spritz from my sample vial commented, "So much alcohol!" — I think she was responding to the aldehydes, as well as to the citrus and to the sharp, sheer wood notes lurking below the florals. The rose smells soapier as it dries down, and the base has lots of sheer white musk.
Grisette is, as people say, a "perfume-y" perfume. It also reminded me of something I'd tried many times before, and then I realized: it feels to me like a flattened-out version of the iconic Yves Saint Laurent Paris (1983), another olfactory valentine to romantic women in the City of Light, or perhaps it's a little closer to the younger, brighter Baby Doll Paris (1999). If Grisette is trying to evoke the late nineteenth century, it just isn't reaching back far enough.
I really wanted to love this fragrance, even if I'm a bit uncertain about the "grisette" concept: after all, this term had connotations of prostitution at certain points in its usage. Maybe I shouldn't have expected something with a vintage sensibility. However, Grisette isn't even good trashy fun for a good-time girl — it just feels like a department store fragrance, and you could certainly spend less money on a floral scent from Estée Lauder or Lancôme or, you know, Yves Saint Laurent.
If you've tried Grisette, what did you think? Do you have a favorite Lubin that I should try?
Lubin Grisette is available as 50 ($130) and 100 ($160) ml Eau de Parfum. For purchasing information, see the listing for Lubin under Perfume Houses.
Note: top image is La Grisette by Robert Richard Scanlon via Wikimedia.
I think I stick with my Paris and Trésor, when I want a retro rosy kick 🙂 Money saved 🙂
I am inclined to agree!!
Oh…and Lipstick Rose, of course 😉
Yes, of course! 😉
My personal favorite of the Lubins I’ve tried is Idole. The EDT is discontinued, but the EDP is still around. Gin Fizz is a fun one too. It’s very true to its name in the top notes.
Gin Fizz is fun and great for Summer 🙂
I love real gin cocktails in warm weather, so I might like this fragrance!
Yes, Baby Doll! I had the same disappointed reaction, mainstream floral, but couldn’t put my finger on what it reminded me of. Don’t get me wrong, it smells nice but not what I generally want to wear.
I actually like Baby Doll, and I respect Paris, even if it’s a bit “much” for me most of the time. And I do enjoy good fruity roses in general…but I was disappointed in this case.
I like Baby Doll too but haven’t wanted to wear it for a long time; just not my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be snobby and I do have some very shamefully mundane, melony, pink, watery scents that I love and wear when I’m in the mood but I expected something more from Grisette.
I agree… it’s just that when something promises to take us back in time, and then smells like an 80s-90s mainstream frag, I can’t help but feel a bit cranky.
I was intrigued by the description of this when I read the release a few months ago (if you’re up on your Les Mis, you know that Fantine – she of the “I Dreamed a Dream” from the musical – had been a grisette before she became pregnant and was abandoned by her lover). But then I read the notes list and thought, Hmm, sounds like maybe I’ve smelled that before.
Not that it’s exactly a bad thing, it’s probably pleasant. But I think I might stick to my Paris, too.
I remember learning about grisettes in a graduate seminar about 19th century French art — and they are definitely interesting, as are all those social “types” of the era!
It’s a pleasant enough fragrance, but if you already own Paris, you can probably live without this one.
What a pity. I really like Korrigan: it’s a bit strange and difficult to describe, but definitely worth a try.
I think Angie liked that one, too.
I lifted the bottle at a store that was carrying it, sniffed it, and put it right back down again. Maybe not a proper try, but it smelled (as you say) sharp in a way I did not like at all, so I moved on to other things.
Oh! I do not judge. I would have done the same thing. I only gave it a few day-long tries because I wanted to write an informed review. 🙂
I applaud your commitment!
I like Korrigan, too. It does have a different kind of smell, but it is very good on me.
I also like Baby Doll (and have a sample of Grisette on its way to me, so it will be interesting to see what I think of it).
Baby Doll was a Ralf Schwieger creation, apparently — now I know why I like it!
“this one sounded right up my Montmartre alley.” Hee hee! 🙂
I am being funny. 😉
I’m curious to smell this, as I’m making a perfume with almost the exact same list of notes. But I expect them to smell totally different. Mine starts out smelling like juicy grapefruit juice and creamy bergamot, slowly getting smoky, and then sorta fading out into a pancake smell (inspired by the midnight sun in Alaska, where it never gets totally dark at night—at midnight, it’s still sunny, at 1 or 2am the sun is setting and at 3am, the sun’s back up, and if you’re like me, you’re ready for breakfast).
Now all I can think about is pancakes!!
Good review, Jessica, and I agree with Kindcrow about how great your “right up my Montmartre alley” comment was. However, by the time I got to “sharp, sheer wood notes, soapy rose and lots of sheer white musk” I was terrified! Thanks for taking one for the team. 🙂
It’s yet another example of how a list of notes can tell you anything or nothing about the actual smell and “feel” of a fragrance! Well, now we know…
My favorite example of this is E. A.’s Sunflowers. The notes sound perfectly innocuous, but the scent…!
(with the usual apologies to its fans)