Denyse says L’Heure VII Defendue is based on the seven deadly sins or the Forbidden Hour.

I’ll say. in snaps and sn

L’Heure VII Defendue is not some lightweight chocolate that’s a little milky or fluffy like a dessert. This is the dark black chocolate that’s a lot bitter and holds nothing back in expressing itself in snaps and snarls.  Surrounded lightly in patchouli notes, you get that dusty, slightly musty smell, similar to the patchouli effect in Serge Lutens Borneo, but it’s more delicate, stringing out like tendrils instead of infusing the cocoa in a cobwebby cloud.  And then there’s the iris that unfolds in the heart, tinged with melted chocolate, which is exquisite and unexpected.

This isn’t a gourmand, even though it is cocoa. This is the raw element that’s earthy, not the one you pick up in the chocolate shop.  Sorta how regular Charbucks coffee is not a mocha cappucino.  Long into the drydown, the cocoa loses some of the bitterness and hovers on the edge of gourmand like a tease. There are moments I sense a touch of Guerlain’s Iris Ganache, then shake my head and say – naw, couldn’t be.

Mathilde gave us three very interesting scents in this release. One which is utter floral beauty,  Diaphane, much more mainstream, then the absolutely cunning horse and tea Fougueuse, and then this nongourmand gourmand, Defendue.  It does call to mind a few sins, but ones I don’t think I’ve indulged in yet.  Or that I can’t quite imagine how they’d work exactly.

Cartier sent me generous samples of all three of these, and I’ll part with four sets of samples from this sample for four commenters.  So which one do you think you’ll like the most?  The least? Did you have a favorite from the first set?  Or have you not even smelled any of them?

Patty

oooh!  almost forgot (again)!  Bruno Acampora winner is jen. (all lower case, no asterisk – clarifying because there were 3 ‘jen’ variations in the draw) :  Musette

When I first stumbled into the Posse,  one of the first things I did, after I stopped drooling, was to go into the Archives to see what I’d been missing .  One of my faves was this hysterical post, which got me on a hunt for Hermes Doblis, just to see what the fuss was about.  I thought about what constitutes “smelling like money”.  Doblis has it, with its rich, honeyed-leather tones…lots of money there…tons of money…

..yeah, right.

You want MONEY?  How about Saudi Prince money?  A state-of-the-art stable full of Arabians, each with its own groom, massage therapist… private plane (I’m talking the horses here), air conditioned semis….tack that costs more than your house?

Hellooo, Cartier L’Heure Fougueuse. Mathilde….wow.   It’s phenomenal.   I get a huge blast of clean, slightly-green hay, coupled with that sharp, acrid smell that says ”barnyard’…… then, about 5 minutes into it, that all smooths out and it gets weird, compelling and way fabulous – not perfumey at all, more essential/elemental…..but seriously groomed and refined. A scent of elegant contradictions.   Per Denyse’s review here, Mathilde Laurent used what she called a ‘mane accord’ but I’m not getting ‘horse mane’, as in what you get on a farm (at least not for me – but I wasn’t raised on a farm so what do I know)… Yes, it’s ‘horses’ but not really (bear with me as I try to make sense here)….for me, the overwhelming impression I get from it the idea of a stable built for a staggering cost, housing the most cosseted horses on the planet.

I know this is a lame review.   I can’t really talk about the notes on this one.  It’s just….honest, I just can’t get past this seamless marriage of Nature and Money.  Horse translates to  ‘ the best horse (and horse stuff) that money can buy.  LOTS of money.  Fougueuse is gorgeous and addictive – I wore it for several days in a row and could happily make this my next  Scent Challenge – if I could afford it!  As with the other Les Heures, it is shockin’ expensive.  And I’m still awaiting that Saudi prince.

Serendipity:  for a more coherent take, see what Victoria has to say about it – she’s reviewing it today as well here.

photo:  Arabian Horse Network/2008 Al Khalediah Arabian Horse Festival

Photos courtesy of Scott Bailey

perfume sample from a generous, private ‘gifter’

I always love to bring up some oldies but goodies, now and again; then I get severely annoyed because they’ve been discontinued. Barbara Bui Le Parfum and Sonia Rykiel Woman (Not for Men) are two scents that bear striking similarities to each other. Barbara Bui cannot be had (as far as I know), and Sonia Rykiel Woman can most likely still be found at one or two online fragrance discounters. I have fond memories of wearing both scents during my tenure as a “mature” student. They were warm, comforting and classroom appropriate. By the time I got to grad school, I was inhaling one or both of these scents on a daily basis; both were great for easing the stress that came with having to decipher the works of John Milton, John Donne, and (please keep the guffawing to a minimum) the Bible. When you study John Milton, it is imperative to have a copy of the King James Bible within close reach. There came a point when I was spraying one or both of these scents on my pillow. No joke.

I was watching a documentary the other night about the coming apocalypse, and for some reason, I started thinking about both these scents.  They were very similar: spicy, warm, incensey and a little leathery. I’m guessing that’s what my mind wanted to smell as I was listening to different hypotheses about how the world is going to end. My personal feeling is that the apocalypse will happen later this year when Oprah finally goes off the air. That’s a conversation for another day, but I started to get a bit miffed about all this “end of the world” talk. Silly me, I started thinking: what would I want to smell like if I knew the world was going to end? The answer was, Barbara Bui, or Sonia Rykiel Woman (Not for Men). Ridiculous, right?

Shortly after I wrote my In Memoriam post last November, my dear cousin S., whom I’ve been staying with, rescued a few of my bottles from my “former residence”. He just threw an assortment into a duffel bag, and I’ve been periodically wearing a few. My nose hasn’t been up to much these days, but one of the rare gems he happened to grab, was a still-sealed bottle of Barbara Bui. As I was watching that damn documentary, I remembered that the bottle was in there. I promptly dug it out, removed the cellophane from the box, and spritzed some on my pillow. Despite the coming of the apocalypse, I slept very well that night. Isn’t it wonderful how our sense of smell can yank us back from the abyss, making everything right with the world? I never for a second feared the apocalypse, but I sure as hell needed something comforting.

Sonia Rykiel’s version was a bit edgier, and more in-your-face. I tried valiantly to find the notes for it, but I was unsuccessful. They both smell so similar that I’m willing to accept spices, incense, jasmine, white musk, heliotrope, sandalwood, cedar and amber for both. As I said, Sonia Rykiel may have had a teensy bit of leather in there somewhere. Either way, it’s a shame they’re not around anymore.

I do have some good news to share: I’m moving into my own digs in a few weeks, and I’m hopeful that once I’m settled in, my schnozz will be up for some serious exploration. I’ll be walking distance from a TTC stop, so I’ll be motivated to explore points downtown, finally. I want to get back to some serious sniffing so I can experience what I’ve been missing. In the meantime, my pillow still smells like Barbara Bui Le Parfum, and the memory of Sonia Rykiel’s scent still manages to comfort me. How I wish both weren’t ever discontinued. Great perfume should be revered like great literature: it should be admired and adored for time immemorial.

Your Turn: What discontinued scent memories are in your vault?

Disclosure: Barbara Bui Le Parfum is from my personal collection. Sonia Rykiel Woman (Not for Men) lives on in my memory.

Let’s all settle in to unpack the new L’Heures, shall we?  Anita is going to be reviewing one soon, Fougueuse (horse and tea according to Denyse), so I picked the one that I liked the name the best.  Did I choose well?  The notes?  Not so much.

Rose, litchi, peony.  Crap. Can I talk about the horse and tea one instead?  Well, maybe.  Diaphane is a perfectly lovely floral, the rose isn’t excessive, the litchi isn’t as sweet and overrotated as you usually find in the mainstream scents, and I really do love peony.  It’s a beautifully rendered floral, fairly light and gossamer dewy.  If you love your florals, you could do a lot worse and probably have.  If you’re not a rose fan, I don’t think you’ll find this heavy enough in the rose department that it would scare you off.

This would be pretty perfect to wear to a wedding, as a bride, to your prom, to lunch cocktails, definitely to the office. I do have to say, after I sprayed it on and went to the movies, I wound up liking it a lot. It’s got a sweetness in it – and I don’t mean sugary, more like innocence – that gave a great backdrop to “Blue Valentine.”  Can I just mention that no young, bright-eyed person should go see this movie. it’s definitely for us jaded  older people who have seen this movie in real life technicolor a number of times and nod our heads in understanding and chuckle.  Reviews kept saying it was depressing. I just thought it was realistic.  Highly recommend it.  They both deserve Oscar nods. I think Michelle Williams got one, but can’t remember if Gosling did.u

Can I talk about the horse and tea one yet?  Wait, Anita’s going to do that. But can I just say Fougueuse, the IV hour, sits you down at tea, the sun nice and warm on your skin, before you set off to the stables and bury your nose in your horse’s neck, with the smell of hay (fresh, not used) wafting through on the breeze.  Well, more about that later.  I want to put it in a sprayer and envelope myself in it to get a better feel for it.  Um, yeah, exactly.  I may need to drown myself in it.

Winners of the Cartier de Lune samples – rosiegreen62, Alice C, Shari, rednails and Vintage Lady. Just click on the Contact Us over on the left, send me your address, remind me what you won, and I’ll get you a sample sent out.

So Oscar nominations are out.  Have you guys seen many of the movies, none, all?  Predictions, hopes, favorites? I still need to see a few.

Patty

Who doesn’t love incense in fragrance?  Well, lots of people, I suppose, including those for whom it triggers less-than-happy religious associations.  I was spared all that in my innocent Lutheran childhood, where incense at church would have been (like an actual crucifix) a giant, uncomfortable leap away from Luther and lutefisk, in the general direction of the Catholics.  As a child I wanted desperately to be Catholic because in my less-than-perfect understanding of the nuances of various faiths, being Catholic would have guaranteed me four or eight siblings, pierced ears, and a wardrobe of much frillier dresses than my mother would ever tolerate.  But I digress.

For those of us who love our incense, Full Incense by Montale has been greeted with shouts of joy.  Montale isn’t exactly the house o’subtle, and if someone’s really going to blow your perfumed socks off, in terms of sheer volume, Montale’s a good bet.  Their Jasmin Full should come in a dabber bottle.  Anyhoodle, I’ve been toying with Full Incense for awhile, and here’s my review.  According to LuckyScent, the notes are very simple:  cedar, labdanum, patchouli, elemi, and Somali incense.

It’s still January, and will be January for several more months, I’m sure of it, and January’s a fine time to enjoy the cold smell of incense, infused as it often is with the feeling of a cold blast of the outdoors, maybe while cross-country skiing through the woods.  And like any interesting incense, Montale Full Incense sets its own distinctive course.  From its Pine-Sol top through its acrid-ammoniac middle, moving on to the bit that smells like chlorinated pool water, to the drydown that reminds me of peppered dirt, Full Incense is an epic fail on me.  I’ve worked through samples from three different sources, and the results are oddly (almost pleasingly!) consistent.  Naturally enough, since it smells hideous on me (and it’s Montale), it has the half-life of plutonium.

How perverse are the desires of the human heart?  I’ve enjoyed this experience — its consistent awfulness.  Is Full Incense terrible?  Of course not.  It’s probably great stuff.  It’s just terrible on me.  It’s lovely on Louise, for instance.  I laugh and shrug, content to let this one get away.  I’ll stick with the Armani Bois d’Encens or CdG Avignon when I want my “straightest” incense, and Lutens’ Fille en Aiguilles for something a bit more outdoorsy, or Via del Profumo’s Mecca Balsam when it’s time for more sweet resin….

… what about you?

March