I smelled [tuberose] from the morning to the evening and I realized that the smell is very different. When you smell the tuberose at night it’s richer, more generous. It emphasizes the lactonic creamy notes, the fruity peachiness. It’s much more powerful and orange-flower-like than the smell of the bud, which is greener. It’s addictive – you want to smell it again and again.
How much does a fragrance’s “back story” matter to you? I occasionally try to ignore the promotional copy and just smell a new perfume, just experience it on its own terms, but over and over again I fail in that resolution. I love storytelling. I love visuals. I want to know why people create the things they create. Sometimes a description or advertisement for a particular fragrance resonates with me; more often, it causes me to roll my eyes. I had both reactions to the promotional messaging for Mutiny, the new women’s fragrance from Maison Margiela.
Mutiny was developed by perfumer Dominique Ropion and its tagline is “Assert your self-expression. Banish conformity. Break the rules.” In a short promotional video for Mutiny, Ropion mentions being impressed by Galliano’s “audacity to subvert, deconstruct and rebuild” traditional clothing forms and wanting to do the same thing with tuberose…
Friday is finally here! Our community project for today: pick your poison BWF…wear a perfume with tuberose, gardenia or both.
What fragrance did you pick? As always, do chime in with your scent of the day even if you’re not participating in the community project.
I’m in Tauerville Tuberose Flash…
I bet I’m not the only perfume lover who has trouble wearing tuberose. Now, I love tuberose. I adore its bombshell lushness and, whenever I can, I buy stems to keep on my mantel. I adore tuberose in perfume, too. Little beats the first five minutes of wearing Frédéric Malle Carnal Flower, and I can’t give up my Piguet Fracas Parfum, even if I can’t quite wear it, either.
Yet, after a tuberose perfume’s glorious first moments, too often I’m ready chew my arm off. Those few minutes of a soprano’s aria that were so beautiful at first, now are grating. Tuberose perfume — on me, that is — is just too much of a diva, and I need relief.
I’m happy to report that Aftelier Velvet Tuberose stands apart…
In Grasse, where Chanel has planted the only tuberose fields in France (and the biggest in Europe), having bought a box of bulbs from a retiring farmer six years ago, they blossom only twice a year and are harvested by a team of pickers in crisp cream aprons over two weeks.
— The Evening Standard looks at the return of tuberose; read more in Eau de Eighties: Tuberose is making its comeback.