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I’ve only sniffed this on a scent strip – no skin tests allowed! But again, I couldn't resist offering this preview of the eagerly-expected new offering of Frédéric Malle Éditions de Parfum...
Knowing that this was a violet fragrance by Maurice Roucel, you’d wonder whether this might be an edgier rewriting of the red-fruit-laden Guerlain Insolence.
Not.
Not.
You’d think of the perfumer’s hypercaloric compositions, from Rochas Tocade to the salty vanilla-immortelle dessert that is Lolita Lempicka L, or the best-selling Frédéric Malle Musc Ravageur, which passes for a sizzler, when it mostly makes you want to lick (or get licked on) the parts where you applied it…
And you’d be wrong.
And you’d be wrong.
Because you'd be forgetting that Maurice Roucel, with his bon vivant moustaches and his big comforting paws (fantasizing here), is also the author of one of the most austere, haughty, melancholy scents on the market, Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist.
Dans tes Bras (“In your Arms”), whose name hints at intimate embraces, straddles the line between an invitation to caress and a whispered secret. Violet fragrances have had a mawkish reputation ever since the late 19th century – the violet itself is a symbol of shrinking, unspoken love -- when cheap ionones reproduced its smell were first synthesized, and cheap eaux de toilette inundated the market. Pushed into the woods by Roucel, it sheds its face-powdered innocence.
Of course, ionones already have a woody facet which calls for the accord, and the said accord has already been brilliantly executed by Serge Lutens in Féminité du Bois and Bois de Violette. But while the Lutens veer towards the oriental by setting off the violet with cedar and candied fruit, Dans tes Bras drags the shrinking blossom back into the undergrowth.
After a powerful blast of green violets boosted by bergamot – the greenness is probably produced by the salicylate cocktail quoted in the notes by Osmoz, methyl salicylate being what give tuberose its minty smell – the fragrance quickly evolves, even on cardboard, in the summer heat.
A puff of smoke (incense) weaves in an out, before a wet earth smell pulls the violet towards an iris-like note – there is no iris, but there is an iris imprint, as my sniffing companion said.
This wet earth smell announces the patchouli: its bitter smell dries up the sweetness of the violet. There is clove, but not much, at least on paper: along with the heliotrope and a white, slightly metallic musk, it produces a powdery effect (which is probably emphasized by another salicylate, benzyl salicylate, with its carnation facet).
The woody base of sandalwood and cashmeran (a molecule often used in masculine fragrances) binds the notes into a creamy blend. The composition is so well balanced that it’s hard to dissect it: the overall effect is smooth and suede-like.
Dans tes Bras is beautiful on paper. I am eagerly waiting for a skin test, especially since Maurice Roucel and Frédéric Malle have stated that they wanted to recreate the intimate smell of warm skin, as an introverted complement to their sensual best-seller Musc Ravageur.
Dans tes Bras will be available in September in the three Parisian Frédéric Malle shops, and a bit later on the international market.
Dans tes Bras (“In your Arms”), whose name hints at intimate embraces, straddles the line between an invitation to caress and a whispered secret. Violet fragrances have had a mawkish reputation ever since the late 19th century – the violet itself is a symbol of shrinking, unspoken love -- when cheap ionones reproduced its smell were first synthesized, and cheap eaux de toilette inundated the market. Pushed into the woods by Roucel, it sheds its face-powdered innocence.
Of course, ionones already have a woody facet which calls for the accord, and the said accord has already been brilliantly executed by Serge Lutens in Féminité du Bois and Bois de Violette. But while the Lutens veer towards the oriental by setting off the violet with cedar and candied fruit, Dans tes Bras drags the shrinking blossom back into the undergrowth.
After a powerful blast of green violets boosted by bergamot – the greenness is probably produced by the salicylate cocktail quoted in the notes by Osmoz, methyl salicylate being what give tuberose its minty smell – the fragrance quickly evolves, even on cardboard, in the summer heat.
A puff of smoke (incense) weaves in an out, before a wet earth smell pulls the violet towards an iris-like note – there is no iris, but there is an iris imprint, as my sniffing companion said.
This wet earth smell announces the patchouli: its bitter smell dries up the sweetness of the violet. There is clove, but not much, at least on paper: along with the heliotrope and a white, slightly metallic musk, it produces a powdery effect (which is probably emphasized by another salicylate, benzyl salicylate, with its carnation facet).
The woody base of sandalwood and cashmeran (a molecule often used in masculine fragrances) binds the notes into a creamy blend. The composition is so well balanced that it’s hard to dissect it: the overall effect is smooth and suede-like.
Dans tes Bras is beautiful on paper. I am eagerly waiting for a skin test, especially since Maurice Roucel and Frédéric Malle have stated that they wanted to recreate the intimate smell of warm skin, as an introverted complement to their sensual best-seller Musc Ravageur.
Dans tes Bras will be available in September in the three Parisian Frédéric Malle shops, and a bit later on the international market.
Image: From Studio Tord Boontje
Oh mon dieu, so thankful it does not smell like the nauseating Insolence! It sounds absolutely enchanting, cannot wait to smell it. I really must plan a trip to Paris soon... all these fantastic nouveautes... sigh.
RépondreSupprimerI wonder if I 'll like this toned down violet or not since I love Insolence 's edginess.
RépondreSupprimerRoucel is a perfumer of great diversity who 's done great perfumes (Insolence, Iris Silver Mist) and mediocre ones (L 'Instant, Musc Ravageur). After revisiting Iris Silver Mist lately I noticed it 's less austere than one might think. Following the earthy metallic opening the fragrance unveils a warmer powdery counterpoint to the metallic earthy iris. On the other hand Musc Ravageur is too gourmand for me and always turns into a vanillic amber on my skin.
emmanuella
How ironic that a scent based on the smell of skin isn't allowed to be tested on skin. The Frederic Malles are dramatically different on skin than on paper, so I really want to know what you get when you finally get those "bras" on you. :-)
RépondreSupprimerOooh, forgot to mention (on POL) that I've been dying to retry Carnal Flower. I've never actually smelled it on skin, but I hear that some men love it.
And, I must do some house cleaning--sorry for asking you to reiterate so much info from a previous post in my last comment on IUNX. I didn't realize you had given all the size/concentration info in your first preview. Thanks for humoring me!
Dear Tara, yes, Paris misses you, come to papa Maurice,uncle Serge and cousin Olivia...
RépondreSupprimerAn earthy woody violet, what's not to love?
Emmanuella, I was once such a lover of Musc Ravageur I used up three full bottles and two of the oils. It is now a little too "évident" for my taste and "pas musqué pour deux sous", but never say never. I used to slather muyself with it before going to bed, or with the Lys Med. Now, alas, the smell of citronella permeates my room to chase mosquitoes (which would I rather have, the stink or the sting? Problèmes de femme du monde!)
RépondreSupprimerYou've inspired me to retry the Iris Silver Mist. I'll do that tomorrow.
Oh Billy, maybe that was me being coy, well-bred and Parisian, not wanting the SAs eyes glaze over when they see me coming in... I'll try harder, tomorrow, at another of their shops.
RépondreSupprimerYou really should retry Carnal Flower, it's a gem, and Lys Med. The SA said they were sometimes bought by men, and not neccessarily, hmm, by *sensitive* boy. Don't you want to join Tara and be our male test subject? Then I can really play Auntie Mame.
And if you're very well behaved, not allergic to cats and not rabidly opposed to Parisian smoking, you could sleep on the couch -- which I can't offer Tara, who is a dark and delicate princess. She'd find a cat toy under her pillow!
Oh please, I am awash in a cloud of black fur as it is, since my lovely, petit chat noir Lily, is a long-haired little maven and the heat here in Boston is oppressive right now. So no allergies. And you playing Auntie Mame? A fantasy come true! Do we have to go through the lean years though, or can we skip right to rich Confederate widow? Now I'm wondering what she would wear--something by Lanvin, no doubt. Scandal!
RépondreSupprimerI'd love to be your male test subject, in other words. Feel free to douse me in tuberose and splash/slap me with cuir while lavishly spritzing some hesperides. And would this finally mean I get to sniff Iris Gris? Just to be in its presence...
Billy, start saving up, I'm afraid it's the lean years, but in Lanvin... ;-)
RépondreSupprimerYou were right! I'm gonna need to be smelling this. It sounds right up my alley, violets without the prissiness. Hmmm... a sexy, skin violet...I like the idea of an introverted counterpart to Musc Ravageur.
RépondreSupprimerAh, ma soeur-
RépondreSupprimerThis one's got my name on it.
Phooey.
Sounds miraculous.
Merci, Denyse, for the lovely review. I was a bit apprehensive about this at first -- like Emmanuella, Musc Ravageur is too sweet and vanillic for me. I am a fan of violet (even some of the cheap ones), and this one sounds well blended.
RépondreSupprimerI volunteer to be back-up male test subject for when Billy is not available. :-)
Matt, I'm not a big violet fan, and I loathe cashmeran on its own, but this seems to be quite impeccable, neither sweet nor makeup-like. I'll bet it's great on a man.
RépondreSupprimerChaya, ma soeur! I hope it'll live up to your expectations!
RépondreSupprimerJe vous en prie, Jarvis. Dans tes Bras is definitely not in the same family as Musc Ravageur: it's the polar opposite in fact. As for Paris, what can I say? Start saving up too!
RépondreSupprimerC. actually don 't you think Malle needed a stunning leather instead of a "pretty" violet? He always brags his line is created by the greatest most talented perfumers in the world, but none of the Malles are rated masterpiece in the latest Luca Turin guide and that 's my feeling too.
RépondreSupprimeremmanuella
Thanks for teh great review! Despite the fact that I am not a violet lover (it's usually too sweet for me), this sounds like something I would really like - green violets, earth, incense, sandalwood...heavenly!!
RépondreSupprimerEmmanuella, I would love nothing more than a stellar leather by one of Frédéric Malle's perfumers, but I'm stumped as to which direction it should take.
RépondreSupprimerI own quite a few Malles and I wouldn't swap them for several of the 5-star fragrances in Luca and Tania's guide. Tommy Girl and Beyond Paradise rather than Une Fleur de Cassie or Le Parfum de Thérèse? I think not.
Elizabeth, as I've said, I'm not a great violet fan, though I have a place in my heart for Lipstick Rose... But Dans Tes Bras takes an entirely different tack.
RépondreSupprimerCarmencanda you got a point, Luca Turin "est capable du meilleur comme du pire" but I wouldn 't swap the very silky chic and polished Lutens Tubereuse Criminell for Malle 's overtly green herbal campherous Carnal Flower which I really don 't find sexy or carnal at all. Lipstick Rose after buying the big size bottle I realised I never wore it, it ended up on ebay with Musc Ravageur and they sold quite good ok but not as good as some of the Lutens I fell out of love with.
RépondreSupprimeremmanuella
I love both CF and TC, though TC is the one I wouldn't do without... And I do wear Lipstick Rose on occasion, though I've got to be in the mood! Question de goût! ;-)
RépondreSupprimerHmmmmm. I loathe violet, frankly, I have never met one I liked and I'll go to my grave maintaining that Aimez Moi tried to kill me, but I'll give it a sniff when I get the chance.
RépondreSupprimerI don't need a leather from Malle, I need an amber!!! Where is my AAAAAMBEEEEEERRRRR??????? I've been waiting for years for one of Malle's stable of geniuses (Roucel would do nicely)to tackle my favorite note, and still I wait...
Hi A. ! Well, to me, Musc Ravageur is actually much more of an amber-vanilla than a musk... But let's hope (not too much) that Malle's people will read our wish list!
RépondreSupprimerMy wish list to Malle is stop bragging with your "I work with the greatest perfumers of our times" marketing crap thing and come up with a true masterpiece perfume, a real one, a new legendary No 5 or Mitsouko that will still be around in a hundred years!
RépondreSupprimeremmanuella
Well, Emmanuella, I think every single perfume house dreams of coming up with a Chanel N°5. It ain't happening, but we can have some pleasure on the way there...
RépondreSupprimerI was trying to say Malle is so obnoxious. Seriously he keeps on praising himself yet his fragrance line is nice but doesn 't impress me too much. OK I admit, I 'm ranting again, only because the nerd herd at POL and Basenotes call Lutens an elistist, so it 's only fair... LOL
RépondreSupprimeremmanuella
You've got to give credit to Malle for being the first to put perfumers to the forefront. I don't read the paper press much, so I'm not really aware of his public statements. As for elitism, I think the brunt of complaints addressed to Lutens stem from the fact that the bell jars aren't available outside Europe. Whereas the Malles are now sold around the world, so that, at least, is not a source of complaint.
RépondreSupprimerWell it 's great he puts perfumers to the forefront but why is it really impressive? Maybe these perfumers do a better job working under guidelines, I just don 't feel much passion. L 'Eau d 'Hiver, Fleur de Cassie and Cologne Bigarade when you 're given complete artistic freedom and no bugdet limits??
RépondreSupprimerLutens has more depth, humour and soul, to me it 's crucial. They always make a big deal about the non export bell jar thing but they also don 't relate to his artistic world. How many times POlers / Basenoters bashed Lutens over his fragrance press releases and over his photographic artwork? The guys at Basenotes banned me for posting this link and defending it against moronic people who would come in and say it 's "sick":
http://paris.blog.lemonde.fr/2007/05/13/serge-lutens-architecte-de-la-mode-l%E2%80%99esprit-serge-lutens-3e-partie/
* ...but is it really impressive?
RépondreSupprimeremmanuella
E., I think it's the difference between a person creating his own body of work based on his very personal vision, like Lutens (albeit with the help of the discreet Christopher Sheldrake, whose input has never been disclosed), and a publisher. As a writer, I know that some publishers are directive with certain authors and not with others, and I suppose it works that way too with Malle. One can also surmise that some Malle perfumes are actually formulas developed for other, bigger brands, who rejected them, and were later perfected for release.
RépondreSupprimerBut I beg to differ on Une Fleur de Cassie, which is a remarkable and complex composition, perhaps the best in the catalogue.
And I still do think that in putting the perfumers forward, Malle helped to increase the perception of their work;
Après, on aime ou on n'aime pas...
Well, but do they all have a vision? It 's like reading Duras, the writing is stunning but the story isn 't very enthralling. Ellena is extremely talented...in his lab, but when he came back from Egypt, poorly inspired his Jardin sur le Nil turned out to be a disappointing refreshing citrucy eau de toilette that was just the distorted vision a french tourist who traveled three days in the middle-east and only remembered the hotel room!
RépondreSupprimerIf it wasn 't for being commissioned by Serge Lutens for so many years, Chris Sheldrake wouldn 't be Chanel art director today (they only hired him in the face of years of experience working closely with Serge Lutens) and he would have never done the latest Serge Noire on his own either, he 'd probably be creating new molecules for big firms, which I 'm sure is very exciting...
That 's why to me the Malle concept is basically a marketing niche thing, my analysis goes beyond personal tastes, putting perfumers to the forefront is not working as well as we think it would.
Roucel is another extremely talented perfumer but left on his own with complete artistic freedom he comes up with mainstream compositions. Even though beautifully executed, Dans Tes Bras doesn 't sound as groudbreaking as his commissioned Iris Silver Mist was, I 'm afraid it 's just a pretty violet.
emmanuella
E., that's a very good point. It's hard to know, short of asking the involved parties, how much art directing goes on between Malle and his perfumers. But there's no particular reason for a perfumer, on his own, to be a visionary: he works within the confines of his own taste.
RépondreSupprimerThanks for the lovely review, D. This sounds just perfect for me, given my very particular tastes in violets. :-) I love the idea of a the wood being sandalwood instead of cedar... Do you know what the release date is for the U.S.?
RépondreSupprimerAlyssa, I have no idea when DTB launches in the U.S. It's either October or November according to various blogs.
RépondreSupprimerIt's a strange one, that's for sure. The French blogger Ambre Gris, as well a regular commenter here, Vero59, both found it disturbingly mushroomy until the drydown. I read that as wet earth, but I'll need to test it again.