Like much art, some fragrances — especially the complex classics — take time to appreciate fully. At first, you might even find them off-putting. But as you spend time with each fragrance, you begin to appreciate its peculiar nature, its singular beauty. That describes how I’ve felt about the perfumes I’m calling the Big Five.
I’ll tell you a little about my relationship with each fragrance, then I’d love to hear how you’ve come to know each of them.
Chanel No. 5
For the longest time, I was convinced I knew all about No. 5. No. 5 was fine, full of straw-tinted jasmine, awash with aldehydes, and charming, if fusty. But it wasn’t for me — or so I thought. Then, because the price was good, I bought an old bottle of the Extrait. No. 5 clicked, as if I squinted at the canvas of squiggly lines and saw the bucolic landscape at last. Now, I know No. 5 as an elegant skin scent. It’s easy to wear, smooth and intimate and refined, and not fusty but timeless. I can barely get enough of it. I don’t think the evolution in my appreciation came from some quality of the vintage Extrait. No, No. 5 didn’t change. I guess I did.
Jean Patou Joy
Joy was another perfume with a big reputation that took me a while to “get.” For the longest time, to me Joy smelled dense, like a Victorian room with the curtains pulled. I couldn’t feel my way around in it. The turning point for me came from hearing current Patou house perfumer Thomas Fontaine describe Joy’s sillage as lush and old fashioned. I’d been trying to make Joy a light, happy perfume. Really, it’s a gorgeously constructed velvet overcoat, heavy and plush and meticulously made. It’s red wine, not champagne. The perfume’s “joy” comes from wisdom and experience, not blind optimism.
Guerlain Shalimar
I think Shalimar suffers from being too well known, like the Mona Lisa. You know what it looks like, so you don’t really see. At least, that’s how I used to approach the fragrance. “Shalimar, sure, it’s great,” I thought, but I didn’t feel the love. However, once I was able to experience Shalimar as a perfume rather than an icon, I craved its tangy lemon, sweet vanilla, and animalic wood. Now I regularly wear the Eau de Toilette and savor it, especially in the autumn.
Christian Dior Miss Dior
When I first tried Miss Dior (now called Miss Dior Original) years ago, the friend with me wrinkled her nose and said, “That’s not for you.” At the time, I agreed with her. Now, it’s one of my all-time favorite fragrances. Why the change? I think I simply needed to smell more perfume before I was ready to appreciate Miss Dior — it doesn’t give up its secrets easily. The reward of Miss Dior is that once I got it, the fragrance felt effortlessly easy and intuitive. How could its beauty not have smacked me a wallop right away?
Guerlain Mitsouko
I’ll just come straight out and admit it: Mitsouko still eludes me. I respect Mitsouko’s complexity, and I’ve come to appreciate it more after wearing the relatively friendly Extrait and vintage Eau de Cologne, but we’re not best friends. Mitsouko still pokes at me and refuses to relax into a cohesive, seductive theme. Instead, I gravitate toward its voluptuous cousin, Rochas Femme. But I won’t stop trying to understand Mitsouko. Maybe someday my eyes will open.
What about you? Did you “get” the Big Five right away? Are there other fragrances you now love that took a change in approach or simply more experience to appreciate fully?
I can appreciate these for what they are – masterpieces of perfumery, but they simply don’t move me, if you know what I mean. I know very well what they smell like (I ever have samples of a few of them, just to reference every now and again) and can readily identify them when encountered, but I’d rather enjoy them in passing on other people, not on my skin.
Give me Jicky edp (in the fall), Cuir de Lancome, or Malle’s Carnal Flower….these I crave!
Those are very cravable fragrances!
My relationship with the Big Five has definitely changed over the years. I felt like I respected them, but I just didn’t understand them on a gut level. It has been so rewarding as each one (well, except Mitsouko) has snapped into place for me.
I recently “got” Mitsouko and I love it. Truthfully, I had tried all the other four and lots of the vintage Guerlains, but had never even sampled Mitsouko. Several weeks ago, I finally got to try it and ended up buying a bottle of the Eau de Parfum. I am now in search of the pure Parfum.
That’s fabulous! Have you tried the vintage EdC? Someday Mitsouko will hopefully “click” for me that way, too.
The thing I love about Big 5 perfumes is the way they offer a contrast to your personality rather than an easy extension to what you already are. So you’re forced to see yourself from an unexpected point of view. They challenge you. It’s like needing sad moments in life in order to appreciate happy ones ….or vice versa. Modern perfumes tend to play with what we are, or what we want to convey, but Big 5 perfumes create tension…that’s what I like. Shalimar and Joy …. Fantastic.
Oh, this is so insightful! I never thought about it that way. I don’t feel I’m a Joy person so much, for instance, but wearing Joy brings out something latent in me, and I enjoy it.
Yeah…it’s like they say something about what you aren’t…so they draw attention to the negative spaces ….like sculpture. I love your posts…now they are insightful!
Thank you!
Reading your comment was just a lightbulb moment for me – that’s exactly what it is. We have so many lovely and easy modern fragrances yet these are more like wearing couture – incredible but not something we really are used to.
Real art. They’re something that might take a while to fully appreciate.
Yes, that’s a fabulous thought! Ease and wearability are what most people want these days.
I wonder if the Big Five were always like that though, even on release? We are after all reading them outside the context of their own times. Maybe they were. Not everyone would have worn Shalimar. All through the c.20 lot of women still wore simple floral scents, like the stuff put out by Yardley, and eaux de cologne, and fragrant oils.
That’s a good question. They certainly were pricy enough not to be used everyday–if at all–by working class women.
Wow, I have never heard it articulated that way or thought about it that way, but that describes my relationship with fragrance, precisely.
There are those that I wear as part of me, Encre Noir, Bvlgari Black, Dzongkha, Lonestar Memories, Carner Cuirs etc.
Then there are those as a big, hairy guy are at a tangent to me, but still connected, creating a tension or dissonance that I find interesting, Lou Lou, Rien, Cabochard, Obsession (“women’s”), Covet, Mitsouko, Jessica Simpson Fancy Nights (LOL! I know 🙂 ), Jasmine et Cigarette etc. All these fill out a space in me or emphasize one.
Fascinating, what an insight.
Isn’t it great? Right now I’m wearing Rose Cut, and while I can’t say it’s a perfect match for me, it brings out a facet of me that I’m loving exploring right now. (By the way, you must smell great.)
I definitely appreciate the big five, but I find I’m more attracted to their newer counterparts. Aldehydes still rub me the wrong way, but with No. 5 Eau Premiere I get the same elegance as the original, just without feeling like I’m walking around in soap bubbles. I also fell for Shalimar Initial (RIP – so sad this is discontinued) because I wanted something a touch lighter than my old Nana’s favorite.
The one out of those that really grabbed me was Mitsouko. I didn’t quite “get” it, but something kept bringing me back to wearing it over and over. This summer I wore it on a hot day at a wedding and finally realized why I loved it. I never thought it was a warm weather scent, but now I love it. I’ve gone through three decants of Mitsouko now and think I need to get a bottle. (That and a bottle of L’heure Bleue, which is another love that took time.)
It definitely sounds like time you took the plunge for Mitsouko! And, yes, I think the perfume houses caught on that the old classics might reel in more of an audience if “modernized.” Eau Premiere is a great take on No. 5, I think. But I do love the old one.
Ditto for wearing Mitsouko on very hot days. I have always loved it, but I discovered it really blooms in extreme heat. I wore the extrait (the new, really good since 2014 formula) first time in earnest for a wedding in India and it really worked in extreme humidity at 40C/110F degrees, radiating gently but beautifully. I also tested it over the last two weeks in Hong Kong/Singapore, along with EdP, same great results. It may seem like a strange choice for hot weather perfume but it really works.
That’s a great recommendation! You two give me the courage to try it in heat.
Yeah, I´ll try it too.
I have always loved Joy. Joy is voluptuous and rich. There’s a little too much skank in Joy for office wear but I like it from time to time when I’m at an outdoor event or for my own self at home. It’s intense and absolutely gorgeous. Joy, to me, is REAL perfume, the way Elizabeth Taylor is a real woman.
The 4 others….well….I have never liked. I tried to like Shalimar but it’s not me. No. 5 is definitely not my thing, wayyyy too many aldehydes.
Guerlain Chamade and Vol de Nuit are my faves from that house.
I don’t have any loves from Chanel.
My favorite Dior is Mitzah which probably doesn’t count because it’s discontinued and from their exclusive line.
Chamade and Vol de Nuit are magnificent, but don’t give up on the others yet! You just never know when one will grab you by the nose. (And now I’m craving some Vol de Nuit. After lunch, I’m putting some on.)
to my nose, VdN is the perfect fall fragrance. I’m waiting for it to get just a little bit cooler…. the first rainy cold fall day is all about VdN.
I find I dab it on whenever I want something soothing and warm. Fall rain is perfect!
FWIW, Mitzah seems to come and go–it was back online very recently, and now it’s listed as just “temporarily unavailable”–so maybe not totally d/c’ed?
Good news!
Isn’t it!
Great article! I am glad that you are “human” and didn’t love any of these at first sniff! HA!
I have an odd relationship with Shalimar. I have the EDT and the Vanille flanker. They collected dust in my closet until this summer. I am 24 weeks pregnant and with the heat we had the last few months in the Big Apple you would think I went crazy when all I wanted to do was wear Shalimar. Its hot and then I have the crazy hormone hot flash thing going to and I still loved it. Maybe its the hormones or my skin chemistry changing-but I love love Shalimar like I never loved it before.
Another Guerlain I adore is Samsara.
As for the other ones you mentioned-I don’t have any connection with them. For No 5 I prefer the Premiere flanker. Miss Dior is not me.
I perfume that is not on your list that I had a slow love affair with is Amouage Gold. It wasn’t me either and then something changed and now I love it.
The same thing happened to me with Amouage Gold! I admired it at first, then something “tripped” and wow! I love it now.
I think I love the big five because they’re unabashedly womanly/manly (people-ful? person-centric? I’m really struggling here!): complicated, deep, multi-layered. I sometimes smell new releases and feel cheated because, pretty though they may be and often are, they interpret women and men in such a straightforward, WYSIWYG way. The big five have room within them for many nuanced moods and occasions; they grow older with you, accumulating experience and reflecting it outwards. That sounds as though I think my perfumes have a life separate from mine, which I promise I don’t. What I mean is that the big five seem, in their different ways, to have been built for whole human beings living whole lives.
I feel I’ve expressed this very badly: sorry. Very bad night, sleepless, processing rotten news. Probably shouldn’t have tried to comment.
I feel that way about a lot of the Soivohle perfumes– there’s a very human element to them– they’re wearable, livable and complex
That’s marvelous. I really don’t know anything about her fragrances, sadly.
I think you’ve expressed yourself beautifully! I know just what you mean, and I feel you’re talking about all good art, in a way.
You expressed yourself really well as you always do, I hope things get better for you soon!
Really sorry for your rotten news. And for what it’s worth, I think you’ve expressed something lovely–it’s a special thing when perfume can speak to the breadth of human experience. Which for better and for worse isn’t always so straightforward.
Will be thinking of you.
Oh, thank you all for your good wishes. It’s a tough time right now, but it will get better in a month or two. Also, I’ll get used to the situation and cope with the daily stuff better.
Sending a big hug your way, Waterdragon. You’ll be okay.
Keeping you in my thoughts & prayers.
As usual, you have done a wonderful job expressing yourself. I’m so sorry about your rotten news. Sending positive vibes ((hug)).
Sorry to hear you’ve had some bad news, I’ll be thinking of you.
Mitsouko was my first perfume love at 18 (the edt) and I could not get enough! So I did some cursory online research on what others felt about it, which in turn opened my eyes to other scents and houses and set the ball in motion. I still go through bottles of Mitsouko distressingly fast, the edp these days. I really want a bottle of the parfum but I’m suspecting that’ll only lead to an even more expensive Mitsouko habit!
I used to hate no.5 – it smelled to me rather like a mix of slightly fecal animalic notes and aggressively soapy, sharp florals, bringing to mind a port-a-potty! My nose must have matured though because these days (to my surprise) I find it very much like you describe: an elegant skin scent. I still struggle with many of the great, chilly Chanels though, in particular no.19. It feels austere, abrasive. I’ll have to keep trying!
It heartens me that you love Mitsouko so much! I’m patiently waiting the day I have my breakthrough.
I was lucky to be exposed to some of the bigs when very young and fell in love with No 5. So it has always been my signature, the one I return to again and again, the one that gets me the most compliments, the one I wear daily – it really is a part of me. Over the years I have moved from EdT to EdP to mostly extrait now. And I am a long-time Chanel fan girl, loving most of the older Chanels, especially in extrait (Cuir de Russie, Bois des Iles, No 22, No 19) and a few of the newer ones (31 RC, 28 LP).
When I’m home for the day, I explore new lines and also keep going back to perfumes I might not have liked before. I used to hate Coco and this year fell madly in love with it!! But once I am about to step out the door – a few spritz’s of No 5 it is.
I have also loved Shalimar for many years, especially vintage extriat – wow that is amazing stuff!! I But Joy? It just makes me want to wear No 5. And the Diors ? My mother wore Diorissimo back when it was an amazing perfume. Now, the Diors just aren’t the same and I haven’t bothered with any of them for quite a few years.
I wore Cuir de Russie for most of yesterday. I adore it. I know what you mean about the Diors, too. For Miss Dior, I stick to vintage.
Isn’t it amazing how some fragrances speak to us, and others not so much–or not immediately?
yes – that is what I love about fragrance. It is so subjective, and working in very objective medicine, it is so freeing!!
And the associations are so immediate! Part of why I switched to No 5 extrait is that my grandmother wore EdT and even though I loved her and I love No 5, I still wanted to have it be a part of me, rather than wearing a part of someone else. Yet it still breathes ‘home’ to me on so may levels!
That’s wonderful! I love the idea of combining “home” and “you.”
I first read the title of this article via the link on Facebook.
Before coming here to read the whole thing, in my mind, I was able to rhyme off the potential 5: Chanel, Shalimar, Mitsouko, and, thanks to the photo, Joy. Miss Dior (Original) was the only one that I missed.
I guess that’s how iconic those are.
Of the five, the only ones that I have tried are Chanel No.5 and Mitsouko.
Chanel, while I do love aldehydes, is not really “the one” for me. (Vega came nearer to being “it”)
Mitsouko…. well, I’m with you on the Mitsouko. Someday, maybe, I’ll like it. But for now… no. I shouldn’t have to try to love a perfume.
But now, my mind wonders: what would be 5 men’s fragrances that would be as iconic as your five?
Is there really a men’s equivalent?
Would those evoke the same level of luxury?
Great questions! As for the Big Five feminines, I admit that it’s wholly a list I invented, and others might have a different list. (I longed to include Femme, for instance.) I’d love to see a list of the Big Five masculines. Which ones would you put on it?
I think that a list for men would be quite difficult and would show fragrances that are historically much more recent.
I love your list!
It is not only a list of great works of art, but of great perfume that have been around for nearly 100 years. To me, those fragrances have been the stuff of legends. They have been mentioned in books and magazines, and used in films. (I always look for them in the background)
In the collective imaginations, those perfumes could transform any hausfrau into a sultry Jean Harlow. One thinks of those perfumes, of lamé dresses, and of white fox fur coats as parts of the same picture. (OK… Miss Dior is more the “Bar” suit that white fox fur. LOL!)
Before the 1970’s most men who dared to wear a scent–and on Sunday only– were happy with a quick slap of drugstore variety aftershave.
Old Spice is probably the only iconic product for men (in cologne or aftershave version) that was widely used. And it certainly does not have the glamour of a Joy, a N0.5, or a Shalimar.
Eau Sauvage probably marks the beginning of the men’s era.
Of course, I went off on a tangent and neglected your point about the evolution process of appreciation.
Sorry.
No apology necessary! I love your tangent.
Well, Eau Sauvage would definitely have to be included. I see what you mean, though. It’s as if men were less showy somehow in their fragrance choices in the earlier years. Still, I’d love to see a list!
And perhaps Egoiste?
Yes!
Game Changers for Men, or at least milestones
Habanita
Eau Sauvage
Antaeus
CK One (not BIG as such)
Fahrenheit
Eau D’Issey
Joop Homme
One could probably wedge Aramis in there somewhere, with a Halston…
Game changers vs. Classics would be an interesting discussion. Thanks for the list!
Vega is really lovely.
Agreed.
Yay, Angela! This idea of fragrance as a process, an evolution, and sensing anew is much on my mind lately.
Over a year ago I lamented not getting along with No. 5. Its aldehydes burned my nose (with a real ouch!) and then broke my heart with its gorgeous florals. Now I crave it at times, especially post-shower at the end of a hot day.
Mitsouko just pokes at me and my nose for now. But I’ve learned to never say never. 😀
It sounds like we’ve been walking the same perfume path!
I love a “no 5 shower”!!! I put on No 5 a lot at the end of the day.
My first bottle of Chanel No. 5 was given to me by a man, old enough to be my father, when I was young enough to not fully understand my own power to break hearts. It smelled…..ok, at first. As I sprayed it on in a very offhand manor, it kind of got to me, it began to smell so good. I have always kept a bottle hanging around, I don’t wear it often but sometimes I just crave that scent. It’s also kind of a reminder, on days when I feel very much my age and then some, that yeah, I had it once. ????
I bet you’ve still got it now…
I have never been able to try the legendary vintage Miss Dior, only the current Miss Dior, the blooming bouquet, and the 2005 Miss Dior Cherie, never got any “skank” notes but I think I would probably like that vintage better! Miss Dior currently is nice but not what a person expects after reading some of the horror stories some people associate with it.
Love both Chanel N.5’s, the parfum and the eau premier. Shalimar cologne is very nice maybe a little too mature for me at times, that is the only version I have tried though.
Never tried Joy or Mitsouko unfortunately.
You have some good sniffing ahead, then, with Joy and Mitsouko!
Classics always make me worry about reformulation. I have No. 5 EDT and parfum, Mitsouko, and Miss Dior Original, all bought in the last five years. Are they still what they should be?
And is it too late for Shalimar and Joy? I tried to buy 15ml of Shalimar parfum just last week, but the saleslady couldn’t understand parfum versus EDP, and then tried to sell me a gift set with 15ml of the EDT, and when she finally understood (“Oh, the little bottle!”) she couldn’t find one, and in the end I took it as a sort of sign and gave up. Now I dither again.
That worry aside, I am well on the way to loving No. 5 in parfum, though I need to be in the right mood. I’m not yet sure about the EDT. I loved Miss Dior Original from the beginning though, again, I wonder if it’s a ghost.
Mitsouko and I still don’t get along. I think that it was Musette who gave me the essential secret that what I read as stale nuts in Mitsouko, I could instead read as gasoline. So there’s hope, but it’s going to take a while longer.
I think Shalimar and the newest Joy (not the Proctor & Gamble Joy) are probably both still great, but I really do prefer the vintage Miss Dior. The new Miss Dior Original gives you a good idea of its character, though.
Interesting, growing up my father worked (well still does) for Proctor & Gamble, never realized they once owned the Patou brand. All we ever got in those Christmas bonus trunks they give employees was some D&G and Gucci minatures, plus once a horrid concoction called James Bond 007(cheapest scent I ever smelled!) Now P&G divested or sold it interests in the fragrances biz for the best…
You were robbed! A mini of Joy or 1000 would have been very nice.
Yep, those are the Big Five. Bang on the, er, nose. 🙂
My mother wore No. 5, so I always *liked* it – it just didn’t feel like it could be mine. It took maybe forty years and trying it in vintage extrait for it to feel like it could be me. I fell hard for the glorious segment where the heart slides into the drydown. And sometimes nothing else will do. Joy I can’t manage – something about the jasmine in it, or maybe the jasmine-civet combo, is unbearably ladyparts on me. Just cannot do it.
Miss Dior icepicked the crap out of me the first three times I tried it – and then I got to where I thought it was pretty cool, that icepicky part. It still isn’t what I’d call comfortable, but it’s awesome stuff even if I can’t wear it.
Shalimar can be a cliche, I think, because so many womanly women wore it and were sexy in it in the past. And I admit I don’t really love it; the smokiness of it sort of eats my head. Now, Shalimar Light, I wear that all the time (shame it’s d/c).
Mitsy? For years, I tried it expecting to be wowed. Nope. It just sort of sat there on my skin, not being magic. Being very UNmagic, rather, and something of a hot mess. I tried it in current EdT, vintage EdT, EdP of unknown provenance, and vintage extrait from TPC, in several different weathers and seasons. Nuh-uh. Bad juju. It nearly always left me nauseated, and yet I kept trying. (And then I tried some vintage Coty Chypre parfum and got my doors blown off by gorgeousness.) But still, me and Mitsy, not friends. Then I tried a sample of early 1990s parfum and finally got it: the swirling autumnal mellow/spiky thing. Mind you, I still don’t love Mitsouko. (Chypre I blew a lotta money on, just to have a small bit of it because I loved it so much.) But I finally understood Her Highness, even if we’re never going to be BFFs.
Yes, the journey! These aren’t always easy perfumes to love, but then again they can be wild love affairs with time.
(Incidentally, I learned from the Patou house perfumer that there’s no civet in Joy, and there never has been! Isn’t that wild? It must be the animalic kick of the jasmine that does it.)
It may be just the jasmine. I have trouble with the kind that isn’t sambac – it’s SUPER raunchy on me.
Lucky you…
when i see those bottles of extrait ..nothing makes me go weak at the knees like looking that those beloved bottles.
I have all but the Miss Dior ( which i do love ..will probably get round to getting the extrait some some soon)
I got 4 out of 5 of these scents immediately. Shalimar .. i did not take to for years.
Funnily , Shalimar was oversprayed in dept stores in the 1980s..it was a different fragrance then ..v strong ,deep, strong strong, velvety and too much for little me.
Anyhow, No .5 and Mitsouko are part of my DNA.
Vintage of course. But I will always love and wear them …no matter how much I complain about reformulations.
I don’t have Miss Dior in extrait, but I’d love it. I heard somewhere–maybe erroneously–that Edmond Roudnitska rejiggered the extract’s formula at some point. I’m sure it’s been played with since, but I love the idea that maybe he was involved.
When I was a little girl, back in the seventies, my aunt lived with us for a while, and she would dab some Joy parfum on my hair on special occasions, like Christhmas Eve. I guess it just smells like home.
No 5 has always fulfilled my preconceptions about what a perfume should smell like. Mine is over and I need more.
Shalimar and I have long story. Now my favorite perfume by far, it was not always so. I dreamed about it for literally over a decade before I could finally try it, in Paris, my heart full of hopes. Man, I was not prepared to hate it the way I did. But I insisted and insisted, with all due commitment, and another ten years later, voila. She is mine.
Mitsouko and Goutal´s MPCPC are two perfumes I´m getting to love like crazy right now.
Miss Dior was my mother´s fume back in the eighties. Not my thing, too cold, I guess. Not sweet enough, lol.
I love your story about conquering Shalimar! Going from hate to love is something marvelous for sure. Do you think you’ll ever find the love for Miss Dior, or have you given it up?
Good question. Who knows? But since it was my mom´s perfume when I was a rebel teen, I don´t think I would spend much time coveting it anyway, lol…
No. 5: I Bought a Bottle of Pure Parfum in 2010 when I visited the Boston Chanel Boutique, At first, on my Mom, it seemed to simply Disappear after about the first hour, POOF! Then last year, she wore it to something or other, because she wanted to smell Dignified and Classy, and suddenly… it Bloomed. I could smell it on her all day and it was GORGEOUS! Saying that, The EdP is what really works on her skin and all the Mysteries of No. 5 are beautifully solved in this form. it’s Warm and Glowing and brings INSTANT Sophistication. It’s the kind of scent that can be seen as a Cliche because it is SO CLASSIC now that it seems, Passe, But No. 5 is never that because just when you think you know how she’ll behave… you get that Dark, Civet note mixing with that Narcotic Vanilla and she becomes a little less Behaved and less… KNOWABLE… as if she is saying… “I Still have a Few Secrets (Skeletons! 😀 ) that you’ll Never Figure Out!” and that’s what makes Ms. No. 5 so Eternally Desirable! Suffice it to say, For me… Chanel No. 5 was Instant Love from First sniff! The Bottle of EdP I bought her is YEARS old (Late, LATE 90’s or Early 2000’s) so am not entirely sure if the current reformulation has the same glow as this older bottle, but I cannot really Imagine No. 5 disappointing on any level, Old or New!
Joy: Early 2000’s EdT spray bottle. Joy is in my Mom’s Cadre of Fragrances because my Dad smelled it on a Sample card in Saks and was Deliriously in love with it. So he got it as a Mother’s Day present for my Mom. Joy comes off like a Magnificent, if not slightly Flamboyant Doyenne Benefactor of the Opera or the Museum! It’s Not exactly Old-Fashioned, but it is resolutely Classical! It’s Not Fusty, but it is, Plush, Dense, Operatic, More Maria Callas than Joan Sutherland. More Jessye Norman than Renee Fleming. Within that however, It relaxes as it matures on the skin and it begins to Smoulder, In a Wonderful Complex way. The woman that wears this isn’t trying to Command, She Simply Does. She’s Not Shy, She’s Not Decorous, She IS A Force, but in a Polite way, Not as like one would think Auntie Mame or Mama Rose, Somewhat more of the Ilk of Velma Kelly. Strangely, My mother isn’t all that impressed with the smell of Joy and doesn’t wear it often, which is comical because when she does, she probably gets more compliments than when she wears her Fave, No. 22! I think it smells RADIANT on her and is Bold enough that I have Spritzed it on myself once or twice and was Enraptured by the scent!
Miss Dior (Original): I first smelled Miss Dior as one of those old Foil Peel away Samples in a Lord &Taylor Catalogue around ’94-’95 and fell MADLY in love with the scent. It was SOOOOO Different from anything I had smelled up until that point, That Sharp Tangy Green Floralcy was like Catnip. I finally Bought a Bottle (1.7 EdT Spray) somewhere around 2000-2002 cannot fully remember and my Mother INSTANTLY identified with it and was as passionate about it as I was. If Chicness could be Bottled, This was that incarnation, totally! It Radiates a Overwhelming Aura of Discretion and Taste and Elegance with a slightly Barbed Side that says, Come Close, But not TOO Close… It’s all that Galbanum and Narcissus and Oakmoss that makes this a TRUE Chypre (The bottle she has is Pre-Reformulation, so it still has REAL Oakmoss in it!) The funny thing is… The 2000’s era bottle I purchased actually IS A REFORMULATION of the stuff I smelled back in the 90’s so, What I Originally fell head over heels for was not the same thing as what I fell head over heels for when I Bought it… It matters little, For the Version that still sits happily High in the Hierarchy of my Mother’s over 100 bottles of Fragrance is Rapturous Enough all on it’s own. I have NOT smelled the current Demachy Reformulations, But his Versions of Dioressence, Issimo, Ella, and Ling are all TOP NOTCH to my nose, so I have faith that while the Current Miss Dior isn’t what it used to be, it is surely still the Grande Dame that she has always been!
Shalimar: The Chanel No. 5 contender for Ubiquity! I think, in a certain way, Shalimar is the Flip side of the Coin that is No. 5, Oddly enough because they were created and FIRST Released in the exact same year (1921) Chanel just released her fragrance in a broader manner whereas, Shalimar was solely sold in the Boutique and not Advertised as No. 5 was, It was finally Widely released in 1925, but that was because of the Ravenous and Enthusiastic response to the at that time, Cult fragrance and that the Guerlains saw that a bigger Profit could be made by widening it’s audience, especially after the near Cataclysmic response to No. 5. Shalimar is the more Pampered, perhaps even, Spoiled, Woman of Luxury that is the Diametric opposite of Chanel’s Modern No. 5 Woman. More Courtesan than Flapper. The Warm Oriental Voluptuous Quality of Shalimar, with it’s Bright and upon first smelling, Absurdly Odd Vibrant Lemon-y note that almost comes off like Pledge, But surrounded by Jasmine (which is SO Dominate in this fragrance) May Rose and then the Oriental Notes of Amber and Incense and Balsam and the final Powdery Trail of Vanilla and Iris is so Far removed from the Bright, Sharp, Blur of Aldehydes and Flowers that is No. 5 and makes It so Modern. Though both still are uncompromisingly progressive scents.
As an aside it is incredibly curious to note that Both Shalimar and No. 5 have almost the EXACT Same Notes in their structure, yet couldn’t be more Diametrically different in Attitude… May Rose, Grasse Jasmine, Iris, Civet, Lemon, Bergamot, Vanilla… The difference being that off the top, No. 5 is Aldehydic and more Indistinct while Shalimar is Fresh and Citrus-y and Obviously Floral and then the dry down for Shalimar incorporates Oriental notes of Balsam and Opoponax and Amber and Tonka Bean, where as No. 5 plays up more the Iris and Vanilla parts of the composition mingling with the Sandalwood and Vetiver and Patchouli and most importantly, that Magic trick that Beaux included, Ylang-Ylang. Had Jacques Guerlain included Ylang in Shalimar, it and No. 5 might be Fraternal Twin Sisters rather than Cousins! Any Way you slice it, they are as Similar as they are Dissimilar while being Wholly Unique to each! Unless you have a really Good Nose, the fragrances couldn’t smell more differently, but a trained nose can sense the proportional similarities and parallels and admire just how much Ernest Beaux and Jacques Guerlain must have been on the same wavelength, at the exact same time, in the exact same year, creating the two Totemic Titans of Fragrance… 1921 was Indeed a Good Year! Personally, I Had a more difficult time Popping my Shalimar cork than with No. 5… that Citrus-y quality that pervades it to the end was always something of a Problem for me… it felt as if it was getting in the way of the Richness and Sexuality of the fragrance, and then it hit me… that was the idea! Guerlain didn’t want a SEX Bomb, he wanted something Loving and Intimate, not I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar like Chanel wanted from Beaux, but something Beautiful and Complex and Tender! He succeeded beyond imagination, now I cannot even sense what made this scent such a mystery to me!
Mitsouko: AHHHH, My Peach Tinted Mistress of the Night! Ma Vie En Peche! Mitsouko is SUCH a Divisive Fragrance. You either fall under it’s transportive spell Immediately and are hooked like your First Smoke of the Opium Pipe in the Seraglio, Or you’re totally Mystified and Indifferent to it. Most will agree, it’s an OUTLANDISHLY Brilliant composition, But that doesn’t mean that it’s likable! Of all the Guerlain scents… This is the one that to me, is their Masterpiece. I remember my Sister (God Rest Her Soul) Bought for Xmas a Champs-Elysee Gift set that came with a Little Red Pouch and small samples of a few Guerlain scents and Mitsouko was one of them. I remember it that it smelled AWESOME, it has that same Shalimar Citrus opening that unlike Shalimar, doesn’t confuse the issue, it in fact highlights the Juicy, Piquant Facets of the Peach, It is also more Potently Oriental and Aromatic than Shalimar because of it’s Cinnamon and Oakmoss and Yes, Ylang-Ylang, making it somewhat more Vanguard than Shalimar (and owing it came out Before Shalimar, in 1919) and there is little more on this Earth that I adore than the smell of Ripe Peaches and Cinnamon! This captivated me for AGES, Still does, but after my Sister died… I could not BEAR Smelling it (or Champs-Elysee, since it was spritzed in her Hospital room when she passed, I haven’t really smelled it or Amarige ever since. I really just can’t!) But since she wore Mitsouko perhaps only twice, I don’t have the same kind of association with it now and am going to buy a bottle soon. Perhaps for Xmas for my Mom (Either that or Jean Patou 1000 which is also like the Mitsouko foil to Shalimar for Patou’s Joy!) I have heard from Victoria at Bois De Jasmin that the current reformulation of Mitsouko is Brill so I am going to take a Chance and grab some soon! I hope she’s the Ball-Buster of a Scent that I remember.
Oh my gosh! Once again, your sheer passion for fragrance awes me! Thank you for your wonderful stories and examinations of these fragrances (and I’m so, so sorry to hear about your sister). I really appreciate the time and zeal and expressiveness you put into your comment
You inspire me to set out my Mitsouko to wear tomorrow morning. I’ll think about your family when I wear it. I know I’ll “get” it eventually! I haven’t given up yet…
oh yes, that civet!! It is what I crave in both No 5 (hence I stick with the parfum) and Shalimar (really got it once I tried vintage). Sigh – civet……
Shalimar’s skank is the great balancing agent for me in the fragrance. It’s the perfect counterpoint to the vanilla and amber.
I have never gotten to be friends with No. 5. I suspect she looks down her nose at me. 😛 Aldehydes and I are not the best of buddies, but we get along occasionally. I’ve only smelled modern formulations, though, and I’ve never smelled the vintage.
The first time I tried Shalimar, it was a modern formulation of the EDP, and I really didn’t get it. After the initial citrus burned off, I thought it smelled like really fancy baby wipes. Was. Not. Into it. But then I came across a vintage bottle of extrait in an antique shop in Galveston. I don’t know the age exactly, but the lady in the shop estimated it to be from anywhere from the ’40s to the ’60s. I bought it really just to have it, because even if I wasn’t entirely a fan at the time, it’s still a classic. And then I smelled it, and this stuff has held up amazingly well. I wore it, and got the leathery, animalic notes in the base that I didn’t get the first time, and I was converted.
I’ve only smelled Joy once, a few years ago. It’s gorgeous. It’s the kind of thing that I would probably never think myself “fabulous” enough to wear. But I haven’t smelled it in a long time, so who knows, my assessment might be different if I were to smell it again now.
And as for Miss Dior, I’ve wanted to try the vintage but have never gotten around to it. I’ve tried a couple more recent formulation when it got confusing as to what was Miss Dior and what was Miss Dior Cherie, etc. I haven’t revisited in a while.
Oh yeah, and I forgot Mitsy. This one I’ve actually never had issues “getting”. I think the first one I got was a little mini on EBay, and it may have been extrait. Golden mossy peachy goodness. I have a bottle of EDP now, in a more modern formulation. It’s still nice, but it is obviously missing the oakmoss. I also have a vintage mini tester bottle that I found in an antique shop. I don’t know how old it is, but the label looks like it could be ’50s or ’60s. It’s about half full, with a little glass dabber stick in the cap. And it is gorgeous. The oakmoss is still there, of course, so it adds a smoky depth that the more modern formulation is lacking. However, I remember hearing that it’s been reformulated since my bottle, and that the newest formulation is better. I haven’t smelled it, though, so I don’t know.
Hurray for your instant “getting” of Mitsouko (aka Mitsy–hey, how many perfumes have nicknames, anyway?).
I love your story of falling for Shalimar! I wouldn’t be surprised if you, like me, surprise yourself by going all in for No. 5, too, at some point. And I agree that the whole mess with the various Miss Dior names these days is confusing.
That may be. I actually haven’t smelled No.5 in some time. I kind of suspect that it might be another one where I might be a convert if I smell the extrait or vintage. I do get along better with aldehydes than I used to, so who knows.
They’re relatively soft in the extrait, I find.
I only just started to like Chanel no 5. I’d never worn it on skin, just smelled it on paper or on others. So I missed out on the lovely soft white florals and citric bursts in the drydown.
Mitsouko and Femme were easy for me to like. Spicy, peachy chypres just go right to the sweet spot in my brain. And that nuttiness in Mitsouo k fascinates me.
Shalimar took me awhile. Esp the EDT. The opening made me cringe. I was never a vanilla fan and citrus and vanilla: Ewwwww. Same with L’HeureBleue with the powder and vanilla. But now I like them bith. Partly changing taste and partly learning how to smell perfume from beginning to end and looking for transitions and nuances.
Now I need to hunt down vintage versions.
Joy and Miss Dior I have no experience with but will remedy that in time.
Would love to try vintage versions of all of these.
Thanks for your musings. I always learn so much from your experience and love of the classics.
It’s so rewarding to keep smelling and keep appreciating!
I didn’t “get” any of these perfumes on first encounter, and I enjoyed reading about your evolution with them.
No. 5 in vintage extrait is one of my favorite things in the world now, and I have so many flavors of Shalimar I’ve lost count. I have yet to come to terms with Mitsouko but I loved the reference to Rochas Femme, one of my favorite darlings. I would say still today that Miss Dior is not “me” (and I’m also thinking of it here in its vintage form, which is beautiful, wonderful, but not “me”), but it’s really only Joy that I still regard with great suspicion. It’s terrifying on me.
Lovely article!
Keep trying them! If you’re like me, it might take years before a fragrance finally manifests in its complete beauty. That said, I completely understand if you get a fragrance but it’s not for you.
I have a spent a fortune on niche perfumes, the only three I wear now and then are Beloved and Gold (amouage) and Cuir Fetiche (maitre parfumeur)
But..reformulated or not, I wear Eau du soir, Knowing, Coco (edt) and Shalimar and 24 Faubourg.
I try not to be too busy with reformulations because I always get compliments on these 5.
Mitsouko.. I loved it for one month in a row. And all of a sudden…mehhh. so strange!
Oh, that’s interesting–a weakening rather than a deepening of Mitsouko love! It sounds like you some reliable lush and beautiful fragrances to take its place, though.
I tried Miss Dior and Mitsouko very early in my perfume mania – I’ve always liked perfume, but it started getting seriously crazy six or seven years ago. I tried lots of things I’d read about here, and it took me a while to get my nose around some of them.
I wasn’t sure about Miss Dior at first sniff, but it grew on me quickly. Mitsouko took longer, it made me think of little pink sweets that were around when I was a child and I couldn’t get past that (they were called smoker’s lollies and they may have been a NZ peculiarity). Then a couple of years ago I tried a few other things that reminded me of Mitsouko, tried it again and suddenly it didn’t smell like pink lollies any more! Maybe reformulation had something to do with that – I don’t know which versions I’d tried, but I’m pleased.
Strangely, Mitsouko now feels nostalgic, like something I’ve known forever, but I’m pretty sure I’d never smelled it till a few years ago.
Shalimar, Chanel No 5 and Joy haven’t grabbed me, but they might yet…
Smokers lollies! I’ve never heard of them, but I love the name.
Your journey through the Big Five sounds classic to me. I certainly relate to it.
Thank you for such an interesting article and also such thoughtful comments. I loved Shalimar instantly and wore it in my early twenties -then not and now again. Weird – my first sniff it felt so sensual and come hither while being elegant.
No5 might be one of my most complimented smells – especially if I happen to wear a rose body oil with it. I am always surprised as I would not expect it to be so well received still and yet it has an aura all of it’s own which I reach for whenever I need to feel just so for work or anything else.
Joy smells like warm sunshine to me and makes me feel warm in the cold – it really is the scent of happiness and Joy – I wear it sparingly but more often that I would expect.
Mitsouko I have have started to maybe like – having tried a recent edp – but may need to think about it more.
Miss Dior I struggle with but shall persevere – and I do love n19 so shouldn’t be that hard to like it?
They do all feel completely different to modern scents in that they wrap you in a distinct vibe whereas often more modern scents recede more into the background (although of course not all of them do) – both are good according to mood and occasion etc. All of that said, in some ways No5 feels the most modern of all scents I own – like a minimal sculpture stripped of anything but pure clean lines and an incredible brightness.
No. 5 does surprise me at how modern yet eternal it is. But it’s so old! It’s an amazing fragrance.
In honour of this wonderful post, I wore a few spritzes of Joy EDT from a bottle I bought in about 1993. I didn’t enjoy it; I felt like I was walking around in a fox fur and that people must be staring. I had been planning to wear Kelly Caleche, and an hour into the day, wished I had.
I’m still deeply interested in classic fragrances and I own all of the Big Five in various formats and vintages, but I wear them less and less. I do love the crispness of Miss Dior but wear Chanel No 19 EDT more often; No 19 (to me) never seems to date. Maybe I just can’t stomach the animalic aspect of the classics any more. And I know what you mean about the curtained room. These days I enjoy fragrances with a bit of fresh air and sunshine!
Ah well, wear what you love. 🙂
In Perfume: The Guide, Luca Turin describes Joy as a sort of flower of its own rather than a collection of them, and I think that’s a terrific description. Joy is a big, lush purple flower all its own.
Can’t argue with Wear What You Love! (I had to capitalize it since it seems like it should become a bumper sticker.)
I think my difficulty with Joy lies in its stiff opulence… Shalimar too can strike me as stifling.
They’re absolutely dense fragrances.
I really enjoyed this post! Although I’ve been a perfume enthusiast for a while, I’m ashamed to admit I’ve still not tried Joy. You make it sound so lush and intriguing. Must try the next time I’m at the perfume counter…
It’s worth trying, for historical purposes if nothing else!
What fun to read contemporary reviews of old classics. In my pantheon, however, I’d have to exchange Miss Dior (not sure which formulations I’ve tried, but I am pretty certain they were not very old), which I don’t like, with a newer, American, great pillar: Knowing.
In my mind, it deserves the same obeisance as the other four French frags for its mountains and rivers, forests and glens.
Knowing is wonderful. I hope Estee Lauder keeps it in production.
You inspired me to dig out my snuff bottle of Joy extrait (c. 1970s) and treat myself to a lavish application! I’d forgotten how tart and oily and lush it is; my bottle is from a more rose-centric and less indolic batch, so it’s very Apotheosis of Roses (instead of Giant Pile of Dirty Knickers), which is fine by me.
The sillage from my Joy extrait will fill a room in nothing flat, and it’s rich and heavy without being sweet and syrupy. I prefer this kind of classic vintage composition to contemporary mainstream frags that are ultra-sweet and high-calorie, but thin and shrill (not to mention overtly synthetic) at the same time.
I fell in love with vintage L’Heure Bleue and Mitsouko at first sniff, but when I fell down the vintage perfume rabbit hole a few years back, I didn’t know what to make of No. 5! No one I knew growing up wore it, so I didn’t have any personal connections to it. It didn’t have that initial emotional hook that LHB and Mits had for me; in fact, No. 5 smelled like an accident in an industrial soap factory to me for years.
I got my hands on some 1960s No. 5 extrait not too long ago, and finally it made sense – the aldehydes gave the rose-jasmine accord a smooth, burnished quality that was echoed in the heavy, animalic, but still polished base. Balance did the trick; those aggressive aldehydes need rich, high-quality florals and serious nitro-musks and civet to keep the structure on an even keel. I’ll never really love No. 5, but now I understand it on an intellectual level and can appreciate it.
Miss Dior (the vintage EdT), on the other hand, I *hated* with a passion! To me it smelled like wet dog and wet concrete – horrible. But I kept my little decant on hand for reference (though I was tempted to toss it). One day I was on a chypre kick and hauled it out again… one whiff and all the puzzle pieces re-arranged themselves somewhere in my lizard brain (there was nothing rational about it), and *pow* – suddenly I was smelling the most amazing mossy animalic chypre. I went from hating vintage Miss Dior to craving it in a fraction of a second!
Shalimar I’m still working on (like Mitsouko for you); I re-visit it every year or so, but it still smells like rancid baby powder and harsh lemon cleanser to me. I’m not getting rid of my decants of vintage Shalimar, though… I’m patiently waiting for the lizard brain to kick in (wish it would hurry up!).
This is why vintage frags fascinate me; some click with me immediately, some grow on me, and some kick and struggle and punch me in the nose. It’s never boring!
I love how you describe your experience with these fragrances! It sounds like we had similar reactions to Miss Dior. You simply can’t intellectualize your way around these perfumes to understand them in a visceral way. They have to “click,” and that might only come after experience.
I haven’t yet read all the comments so apologies if I am repeating a topic already addressed, but my question is – what would happen if one took any ‘current mediocre celebrity scent’. Suppose one smells it and think meh. But that every two months one were to return to it with the idea that other more experienced people smelled something great in it… Do you think that after a year or two one would start to appreciate it differently?
Well the rule of thumb for a parent is to have your kids try something 20 times before you let them declare an official dislike… Worked to sway them on broccoli, olives, onions and mushrooms… Failed with tomatoes, cabbage, and siracha.
So I guess it depends on the fragrance!
I’m giving Mitsouko at least that many tries! I know it will snap into place for me eventually. So I retry it patiently every few months or so.
I really do think there’s a qualitative difference between the Big Five (for example) and your average focus-grouped celebrity fragrance, just like there’s a difference between what you see in a museum and what hangs in the lobby of your dentist’s office. But I love your idea of the experiment!
Chanel No 5 was definitely instant love for me- perhaps because my grandmother wore it & so I’ve been exposed it since I was a newborn infant snuggled up against her bosom. To this day I associate the smell of Chanel No 5, coffee, & cigarette smoke with my grandma. So for me Chanel No 5 is the ne plus ultra of perfumes & so although, as a man, it is too recognizable for me to wear outside the confines of my home (I often wear it to bed- talk about a comfort perfume! Or a new perspective to Marilyn Monroe’s assertion that Chanel No 5 was all she wore to bed!). Chanel No 5 remains No 1 on my list & I doubt any other perfume will ever dislodge it from its place on my highest pedestal- it’s beauty, timelessness, & elegance is too entwined with sentimentality to ever be replaced in my heart or nose.
Thank you for that wonderful story! It sounds like No. 5 is and was an important part of your life.
It really is. It truly brings me back to those wonderful moments in my young life & not by any conscious choice on my own. I’m certain that everyone here- maybe more than most people- are well aware at how scents can trigger powerful memories & even transport you to back to different times & places in your life. Even more powerfully scents can sometimes make it seem as though people gone from your life seem almost right next to you- like the lingering scent of a former lover on his t-shirt that you keep buried in the back of your wardrobe, or yes- a classic perfume combined with certain other ambient scents that your grandmother had made her signature. To me the terms “old-lady” perfume or “grandma” perfume are not epithets, rather they are descriptors that compel me to run & sample them- along with other counterintuitive “selling” points like fecal, sweaty, barnyard, & skank.
Yes–I understand. It’s not about a fragrance being “pretty,” it’s much more than that.
Nice post! I’ve always liked Shalimar – a very dear friend of mine wore it in college. She gave me a bottle, but it disappeared somewhere in the past…. Shalimar was never a problem for me. I love it’s plush gorgeousness. I rarely smell it on anyone else. No 5 was a saga backwards from eau Premiere to vintage extrait to the current edt, which I adore. I actually love all iterations of No 5, and own many of the body products. I wish I had a stockpile of the old square bath soap!! Joy is tricky for me – my mom had an unused bottle of Eau de Joy for the entirety of my young life sitting in the open on top her dresser. She didn’t like it and never wore it. But I went to the effort of finding unused Eau de Joy for myself. I like it technically, but it always pulls a lot of skanky jasmine and civety notes to my nose, so I can only wear it when I’m in the mood. Sometimes I’ll layer it with some rose soliflore to smooth it out. I don’t wear it as much as I’d like to but I’m still trying. I’ve never smelled Miss Dior, so I’ve no comment. I do like Diorella very much though. As far as Mitsouko – it’s not my fav Guerlain, but I do love it’s crazy strong beauty. I only wear it in the fall so it’s not worn so much. I love the edp and the extrait for different reasons.
I love hearing how you’ve come to know No. 5 and Joy and Mitsouko! I’d love to hear sometime what you think of Miss Dior…
Van Cleef and Arpels First took me awhile…I think all the aldehydic florals give you some fight and nose-noise when you first approach them. Sometimes it takes an extreme circumstance, like distance between sniffs, or wearing it during exercise, for the curtain to fall away and what I can only describe as an epiphany to happen. It is a true revelation of previously-occult intelligence, like when a song finally makes sense to you. I’m thinking Go-Go’s “How Much More,” or Brahms’ First….
Isn’t it fabulous when that happens?