Oh, Wind … and Fracas

We had our third (maybe fourth) storm of the season. The reason I’m not sure is because this one’s name starts with D (Darragh) and I don’t recall anyone talking about a C named storm.

Anyway, Darragh. On Friday night, when all was dark and quiet, my mobile phone screeched with a siren noise. Loud loud loud. Red alert, red alert. The West of England was looking at up to 90 mph winds over the weekend. So, all this is a big deal. We were told to anticipate trees down and power outages – and that we should stay home.

My plan once we knew about the state of the weather was to concentrate on two of the five samples I received during the week. Two of the others are for early January – my last posts for this year are holiday-ish focused. Sample number 3 was … Robert Piguet Fracas which March wrote about last week, which has been covered numerous times on the Posse, which I had sampled yet again with Portia a while ago, and which never ever has sat right and ended up as one of my tuberoses.

I wasn’t planning to write about Fracas. I just wanted to visit with it yet again and simply threw a sample in the mix as something of an after-thought.

But, those first two samples I planned to focus on were just n- gos. I had bought them for the house (which I had never sampled but read good things about) and the names. Sadly, numero uno started ethyl maltol (that very much an acquired taste cotton candy note) which I can take in some instances and in reasonable doses. But who opens a perfume with a blast of EM that lasts? Thankfully, the fragrance wasn’t terribly long-lived. Number two was so unmemorable I have nothing to say about it.

Sigh. This happens sometimes.

So between the winds and the poor sample outcomes, I had come up short on a post.

Thus, Fracas.

I love tuberoses. Used to buy cut flowers from a market in Central London when they were available, have them growing in a pot in the garden (they came up one year – not sure what has happened since … maybe the squirrels dug them up), own travel sizes of Lutens Tubereuse Criminelle and Malle Carnal Flower.

But, Fracas. Don’t know how many times I’ve sampled it over the years and always come up shaking my head and thinking nope. Whether decades ago at Bergdorf Goodman in NYC – it was such a 1980s staple, I think Madonna wore it – or with Portia at Harvey Nicks — when maybe my nasal passages were fried after hours of sniffing together.

Anything different this time? That a ha moment?

Well, not really. But what did happen is it finally worked ok on me – to the extent that I could pay attention without squinching my shoulders and shaking my head. An opening of cool, mentholated rubbery tuberose with maybe a bit of soil and hyacinth. There is something a tiny bit nauseating as this opens up, like green leaves soaked in autumn rain water. The drydown was … muted. About midway through the development it gets quiet. And it’s not hugely long-lasting*.

I was sort of expecting Fracas to be like our storm winds – chaotic and slightly menacing.

But actually in the end I think it smells more like late Autumn in England: vague remnants of summer (those single sad roses hanging on to a bush); damp earth and desiccated leaves; a bit of wood smoke; darkness before 4 PM.

Or, actually, a beautiful, well-dressed woman stopping for a single malt in a fancy hotel bar after leaving her lover and before returning to her husband. She loves the former, not the latter – but there’s nothing to be done to change the situation.

*Much later one evening on a day I wore this I realised I could still smell it. And it was beautiful. Soft, slightly strange, white floral. But strangely melancholy. It still isn’t one of mine, but I’m making my peace with it.
Pics: Pexels and Wiki Perfumes