Bottega Veneta

By March

Hey there, everyone.  First off: Don’t forget to drop by The Non-Blonde today for the next great interview/review installment of Brian Pera’s and Andy Tauer’s film/perfume collaboration.

Okay, onward.  The year 2011 has brought all sorts of scented surprises, some of them more pleasant than others.  Out with friends recently, I had a perfumed wrist shoved under my nose, which was my intro to the new Bottega Veneta scent.  I’d not read anything about it and had no information, other than knowing the company makes woven leather bags I’ve lusted after vaguely for years and will never own.  Having sniffed Prada Candy just prior, and the unfortunate Elie Saab a couple weeks ago, I was prepared to be underwhelmed.

Bottega Veneta would make a perfect fall scent, warm and comforting and very much in the background, the sort of thing that could go to the average workplace without offending.  Calling it a “wallpaper” scent or a “tee shirt” scent doesn’t do it justice, though; it’s more alluring and luxurious than that.  Different facets of the opening seem more pronounced on different folks – more bergamot (or less), and varying levels of faint spices, and/or a slight caramel sweetness (or not).  It triggers fond thoughts of the scent of college libraries, of warm radiators the first day the heat goes on indoors; a comforting, almost dusty smell.  It’s as cloud-soft and enveloping as a Loro Piana sweater. I think everyone in our little group loved it.

The drydown makes a more direct reference to the company product, but again it’s the warmest, most buttery suede you’ve ever smelled, not a birchtar-laden leather.  While the scent is not pervasive, it had quite good lasting power on my skin.

The nose of the composition is Michel Almairac; notes are Italian bergamot, Brazilian pink pepper, Indian Sambac jasmine, oakmoss, patchouli.

According to the internets, the “face” of the campaign is a chic Nine d’Urso, daughter of French fashion icon Inès de la Fressange (I’m a fangirl) and Italian art dealer Luigi d’Urso. The bottle (maybe the extrait?) is supposed to be fancy glass, but I found the standard bottle at NM a bit of a weak point in my quick perusal.  It’s simple, which is probably about right, but doesn’t do justice to the quiet luxury of the brand.  It reminded me of a cross between, say, MMM Untitled and the ugly old bottle for the original D&G men.

But if you’re in the market for a quiet, sophisticated scent that whispers (rather than screams) “luxury brand,” don’t let that bottle stand in your way.