Showing posts with label Guerlain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guerlain. Show all posts

Monday, February 21, 2011

Guerlain Vetiver: Three-dux

adrianbaugh.org.uk
Given that this is third go round with this tropic, I couldn't resist the photo above. The others, however, might take some explaining...

kigg.in
But first, go check out Suzanne's take on the vintage Guerlain Vetiver over at her Perfume Journal.  For Suzanne, this vetiver came off as more roaring lion than purring kitten. And now, since she's found a 1950s Quadrilobe bottle  with a label that looks nearly identical to my so-called 'ancient' vetiver, there may be good reason to doubt the age and provenance of Guerlain Vetiver's ancien.
Does it still deserve the tag ancien? Maybe, maybe not...

 Una and the Lion
In defense of the question still being a valid one, I'll throw this out there: What about the Guerlain New Mown Hay? Since the bottles and labels for the Vetiver and New Mown Hay are identical, if the Guerlain Vetiver is a 1950s vintage then the Guerlain New Mown Hay would also have to be a 1950s thing. Is it? Do we know or can we find out if Guerlain made or reissued New Mown Hay during the 1950s?

postcardsworld
I will further stoke the imagination, and fill in additional details, to also say that the bottle has an applied top with no mold marks, which fade at the neck, as you'd expect on an older bottle. Now what I know about glass I learned crash course style, when we inherited a large lot of antique bottles several years back. The oldest piece we had was a Connecticut flask from the 1750s (the glass looked plenty ripply!), and we had several 1800s bitter's and poison bottles, and plenty of 1900s drug store, medicine, food and whiskey bottles. In the process of identifying, cataloging and selling quite a few of those bottles -- and whew! let me interject, that most of that old glass stuff was way too valuable and way, way too fragile to hang on to! -- I definitely only scratched the surface on the practice of dating old glass, labels and the like; but...

lookingformabel.webs.com

I picked up enough experience to say that the labels on the Guerlain New Mown Hay and Vetiver are really old looking. The paper has aged to a color of weak tea when you examine the labels under 10X, and you can see the extent of extreme wear, the little chips, the eveness and diffuse nature of the wear etc... which you can't see from a photograph. They really look much, much older than any of the labels on my other older perfumes in my collection (mostly 1950s-1930s) and look more similar to other early 1920s-1880's bottles I've examined.

atomicmall
On the other hand, and moving somewhat more out into left field, I think I may have also mentioned in the original blog on this topic, that I was bothered that the look and quality of the glass used for the New Mown Hay and Vetiver bottles. It just wasn't as fine as I might have expected. The glass on those bottles has an almost rippled quality, and it does not match the quality of glass used (for example) on the Kadine bottle (1911-1930s), which is the oldest Guerlain bottle I have to compare these with. The Kadine bottle was obviously hand cut, polished etc... and I see no signs of cut and polish on the vetiver/nmh. The label on the Kadine bottle also looks much fresher, the clay coating on the paper is still intact and there is far less oxidation than what I see on the Vetiver and New Mown Hay labels.

 majorlycool.com
So has the question been answered? In the end, I don't suppose it much matters. Not only did I find a vintage vetiver that pleases me nearly as much as Frederic Malle's Vetiver Extraordinaire, which I didn't think was possible, but I'm also quite happy to have found a perfume friend like Suzanne. And after reading her amazing ode to Guerlain's Vetiver, it might even be turning into a perfume crush:)

barnaclepress

image notes: I'm not really sure about what captured me about the theme of the lion and the girl, other than picturing myself, wearing a manly thing like Guerlain's Vetiver and finding it 'fits' me better than most of the stuff I sniff! My husband got a kick out these pictures, and deemed them OK to use... so putting my concerns for all the poor lions aside, I hope you see the humor there, too. Site credits for the pictures are pasted just below the photos.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Vintage Perfume Materials: Vetiver; Guerlain Vetiver ancien

image: Indianvintage.blogspot

Soothing, meditative, cold/warm vetiver is a complex material rich in history and interest. Records of its trade exist from the 1500s. Vetiver is hardy and grows well in many places where introduced. It has been used for perfumery, woven goods and as a medicine since those times and likely well before. In 1809 the first chemical analysis of vetiver oil was accomplished in France using extracts of roots imported from the Indian Ocean island of Reunion. In 1843, a American vetiver perfume called Kus Kus was first produced in New Orleans, Louisiana. The vetiver used for it was almost certainly locally grown from an earlier-recorded 1803 purchase of vetiver plants from the perfume-loving French. All of this lore is according to American vetiver expert Mark Dafforn.
Wild child of the 1920s and inventor of the modern bra Caresse Crosby with her whippet hound, Narcisse Noir.
 Photo taken in 1924.
image: theesotericcuriosa.blogspot

We see vetiver in many of the early great classic 20th century women's perfumes including Caron's 1911 Narcisse Noir. Since the 1920s we've seen a cavalcade of notable vetiver based perfumes including Corday's Toujours Moi and Chanels' own No 5, both released 1921.
Roots of the vetiver plant after only 6 months cultivation show why it is so important to soil retention and useful for land conservation/cultivation.
image: permaculture.org


Vetiver is one of those rare natural materials that forms a whole perfume all by itself. Some of its evocatively named chemical constituents give clues as to its varied complex nature: clovene, amorphine, aromadendrine, junipene, and vetivone. The scent of vetiver is described chemically as ranging from sweetly roseate to saffron spicy, from peppery woody to balsamic. Vetiver is of such an important material to perfumery, that along with rose and cedar it is classed as "indispensable". In fact industry experts say that vetiver is a key component in about 40% of all perfumes produced today. It's been around for a long, long time, too; the use of it's oil in perfumery predates that of rose.

A Nepalese laborer cutting vetiver grass at a Tibetan Buddhist Monastery near Kathmandu
Vetiver harvester...
 image: outdoors.webshots.com

Traditionally vetiver is considered as India's great contribution to perfumery. Highly viscous, slow to evaporate and with a distinct, pleasant odor there are few substances of equal utility or import. Haitian or Reunion vetiver is prized above all others for it's superior scent quality and it's sweet roseate note. Indian or Khus-Khus vetiver is renown for its balsamic woody notes. Like sandalwood, the world-wide supply of vetiver is precious and precarious. Indonesian and Chinese vetiver have begun to come into use in modern perfumery although these sources are not nearly as prized as Indian or Haitian.  As long as satisfactory synthetic substitutes are lacking, we will remain dependent on the naturally distilled oil. Haiti has long been the most important world wide source of high quality vetiver oil for perfumery. The recent earthquake there will likely have a devastating impact on supplies for many years to come.

 
Benjamins Khus-Khus triple extract perfume, circa 1930s
image: Worthpoints

You will find vetiver is "frequently used in western type of fragrances having chypre, fougere, rose, violet and amber aldehyde base,... oriental fragrances and floral compounds, after-shave lotions, air freshners and bathing purposes, as well as flavoring syrups, ice cream, cosmetic and food preservation. Khus essence is used in cool drinks, for reducing pungency of chewing tobacco preparations, providing a sweet note to other masticatories and incense sticks." (Lavania, 2003).

 This is an up-close view of Guerlain's Vetiver acien label from my own photo.

Winter is the perfect time to wear vetiver so I'm back to give Guerlain's enigmatic Vetiver ancien a proper review. I've added the term ancien to differentiate this perfume from Guerlain's modern Vetiver fragrances, the first of which was released as a mens fragrance circa 1956. But could it be a modern throw-back, something Guerlain released to commemorate some earlier time? As I mentioned in another post, the label is stamped water based paint or hand painted; it smears like crazy if it gets wet and the silvery paint lifts off easily so it sure seems old to me. 

The bottle I already described in a previous post but the juice of vetiver deserves mention here. It is a rich golden orange, amber color and not 100% clear. A fine sediment settles and swirls up like a thin trail of smoke when the liquid is agitated. As far as its scent, the perfume opens with a strong odor of wood, Eucalyptus and pine, followed by hints of sweet, rich malty grain. Notes of wet brown leaves and pepper emerge, partly aromatic, partly moldering earth. Somewhere later lighter strains of citrusy green grass and green apples appear but these recede quickly once the whisper of burning leaves introduces itself and grows into a strong clear incense note. This is a nuzzley incense- it recalls cedar and sandalwood. Well rounded with the sweetness of dry wood and later a rooter saltier driftwood; the incense stage smolders on for several hours.

I suspect this Guerlain Vetiver could be as early as 1840s also; but certainly no later than 1890s, else-wise we'd probably have some other reports of an early Guerlain vetiver in existence and I've found none... Guerlain must have been proud to offer their own version of this exotic and prized perfume to French women, considering that the French-creole ladies in America may have been wearing their own version since 1843!

What I'd be wearing in winter with Guerlain's Vetiver... if I only could! Image from Model's Own blog.

And now I have the extreme pleasure of wearing this anomaly of a vintage perfume in my own lovely winter world- amazing.

But it really only matters if other people know about it, too.

Sadly I only have enough of this Guerlain vetiver to parse out three or four 1 mls samples. Please let me know in comments of you'd like to be considered- but this isn't a contest or give-away since preference will be given to bloggers and serious Guerlain fanatics, and those who read and/or blog/post about perfumes regularly, and because I want to see more reviews and opinions about this... Like I said, leave a comment, or email me at millascent@gmail.com. I'll close the offer as soon as 3 or 4 of you speak up for what's available.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

vetiver references:
HEDGE VETIVER: A GENETIC AND INTELLECTUAL HERITAGE Mark R. Dafforn, National Academy of Sciences, Washington, DC, USA
U. C. Lavania Central Institute of Medicinal and Aromatic Plants, Lucknow – 226 015, India

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Questions about ancient Guerlain: New Mown Hay & Vetiver


I'd wanted to photograph the rare Guerlain New Mown Hay label and blow it up for you all to see. But thanks to a poor packing job, now it's just a smeary mess of silvery black paint. At least one bottle arrived intact. Ironically the seller didn't take any special precautions at all with the Vetiver bottle; hence it's the one that didn't leak.


These bottles are much older than 1959, which is supposedly the first year Guerlain released their Vetiver scent. Guerlain has been around a long time so maybe there are some lesser known scents floating around. But are these two bottles examples of these rare old Guerlains, or are they just a couple of old fakes? Mostly they're a curiosity to me for the juice inside. Since they didn't cost too much, I don't really care a whole lot about the provenance. But I am curious, of course! The bottles do look very similar to other old Guerlain bottles like this one:

 Rita, a rare 1900 Guerlain first blogged by Octavian at 1000fragrances.

The Guerlain bottles holding Vetiver and New Mown Hay are shown below as they were when the seller photographed them. It's hard to tell but they are squatty and compact at only 4" tall. Also the bottles are short-necked and clearly made of molded glass, not polished crystal like the 1930s Kadine bottle shown sitting between them.


Are these perfumes genuine Guerlain?? New Mown Hay is often referred to as a singular note but in the 19th and early 20th century New Mown Hay scents were a genre unto themselves. Based on a stereotypical formula almost every perfumer offered their own version of new mown hay. Similar to soliflore scents are built around the idea of a single flower, although like those the formula likely contains a long list of ingredients. Today we see many such single note scents: Egyptian musk, fig, and thousands of others. See Demeter, Marc Jacobs and Jo Malone for examples of modern examples marketed as single notes or around the idea of scent layering.

Somehow I don't think Guerlain would have had a similar strategy of bottling single notes for their clients 100 years ago. Did they send bottles of individual notes to dispensaries where pharmacist/perfumers made different Guerlain perfumes by mixing primary essences? More likely both of these were sold commercially as perfumes but perhaps early examples composed by Pierre Francois Pascal Guerlain when the scents were custom made to order. Grace of Cleopatra's Boudoir reports that Guerlain did have a version of New Mown Hay but as far as I can tell no one has a date for NMHay. This bottle may well be an example of it.

Of scent, these are simple compositions and not nearly as complex as the women who would have worn them...
image: Sarah Bernhardt

image: shorpy archives, anonymous 1900 portrait, semi-risque

Guerlain's New Mown Hay smells almost exactly like almond paste to me. Mildly nutty and very sweet, it wears down to a light and powdery vanilla. It lasts about 4 hours on my skin, maybe a bit longer. Coumarin is the main note associated with new mown hay scent. It is the principle scent component found in sweet grass and sweet clover. Coumarou literally means tonka bean in French. Tonka bean is also loaded with coumarin which gives it that sweet vanilla-like odor.

Guerlain's ancient Vetiver is dryly smokey with oak-to-cedar wood and whiskey notes. It's sometimes hard to remember that vetiver is a grass- here it smells like the best, most aromatic juniper berries and wood, lightly charred and as smooth as velvet.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Watch out for those old Guerlain bottles...

image: skybluepink

 Disclaimer: I am not a Guerlain expert, nor have I ever been...

But who doesn't love a good Guerlain? Even hearing the name makes me go a little wiggly-jiggly in the knees. From the pretty shiny bobbles that populate the makeup counter to the gallons of amber juices swirling around inside of precious crystal flacons, it's all good. Really good.

And there's nothing better in the whole world then something like this:

 image: another travel guide

But Guerlain isn't just my mother's perfume, it's everyone's mother's perfume and therein lies a problem. If you're thinking about getting into collecting vintage Guerlain perfumes, know this--  everyone else is looking for vintage Guerlain perfumes, too. And for some (insane, ungodly) reason nearly all of them are perfectly willing to pay way, way more than you would normally ever think about spending on perfume. Just know that going into the whole thing.

image: monsieugguerlain

Part of Guerlain's mystique may come from the grand story about their most cherished (vintage, pre LVMH) fragrances- Jicky 1889, Mitsouko 1919, Shalimar 1926 and Chamade 1969- that they were all created by Guerlain men for the women they loved. Each one is indeed like a love story, a masterpiece.

But be prepared because Guerlain will break your heart- it's the Guerlain curse. You haven't heard of the curse, you say. Well, stick around, try a few. It won't be long before you will find one, the one most likely and you'll have decided that you either a.) have to have it, but can't find or can't afford (see above) it or b.) can't wear it, but feel you have to be able to wear it. With Guerlain it always comes down to one of those two cases.

Take me, for example. Like many vintage perfumistas, I've decided.  Mitsouko is the Guerlain for me. In fact it is 'the one'- the one perfume I'd wear if I couldn't ever wear any other perfume, ever; the one I'd grab if the house was on fire... But there's a problem: it's too darned popular. Why, it's almost a cliche... predictable at the very least. But I love it, it smells- well, just perfect. Plus they just ain't makin' it like they used to.... so I'm compelled to pursue it, endlessly... searching, searching for the all too rare bottle of that certain vintage to pop up. So there you have it- my personal Guerlain heartbreak...

image: vetivresse

Then you'll find those who really feel they should be in love with Shalimar. Don't ask me why so many people say they cannot wear it... must be they're only trying the vintage cologne versions, which to tell the truth can tend to go a little sour on the leather.  But I think in its present condition LVMH has tamed this beast entirely. I can't imagine anyone not being able to wear the newer Shalimar versions (reformulations/flankers, whatever you call them). It's been neatly neutered- all fluff and pure sweetness, no teeth, no claws- but I'll admit, I love it.

image: dailymail.uk

I hope you decide not to take my tongue in cheek sour grapes to heart... and just to prove that I love y'all, let me give you a little tip about collecting those vintage Guerlain perfumes that beginners may not know- many of the older spray bottles can be unscrewed. I hate to have to say it- but you have to be smart about collecting- that means they could potentially be refilled or otherwise compromised. I'm not saying avoid those bottles altogether, I'm just saying you should know Guerlain has favored using these 'refillable' bottles for quite some time. Make sure you know how a certain perfume is supposed to smell and don't let one of these bottles be your first experience with trying a scent.

The Guerlain cologne bottle style below (with the pleats and cute little 'hips') circa 1960s-1980s is one example of the screw-off top and removable atomizer stick (leaving the mouth of the jar open)...



And there are squatty black plastic shouldered, fluted bottles very like the red shouldered one shown below, which also unscrew and can be refilled (I'm not sure about dates for this one):


If there are these two, there are likely to be others. Ironically, the blue and white decorated tin canister bottle, which is often referred to as refillable, is NOT refillable in the same, open and pour way.

The cartridges that fit into those bottles are sealed and cannot be easily refilled, diluted etc... just popped in and out. So, I quite like finding cologne in those bottles. Of course, I really like to find sealed, corded bottles like the one below, whenever possible:

And just a quick aside - I really like Guerlain's colognes, eau de toilettes and eau de cologne formulas. The vintage versions of these juices are often stronger and more beautiful than other makers pure perfume versions. Thanks to the beautiful quality of these creations you don't always have to have the pure perfume in order to get a great sillage and sensory experience.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

images: all the little thumbnails are from ebay auctions

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Working, working...

(image 1979 ad from hprints)

....as always but more so from now through the end of May...  I do have a new post brewing but the trail on the story turned and so now we must wait while I gather more evidence and evaluate; in the meantime you are not forgotten, dear friends.

Today I'm wearing Shalimar spray (parfum de cologne or edt). The bottle is dressed in a white and blue floral design canister, probably a late 1960s vintage. Although it can be considered fickle and tricky to wear  by some, I can hardly go wrong with Shalimar- any version, from any year.

You may recall the tragically discontinued 2003 version Shalimar Eau Legere composed by the talented Mathilde Laurent. I completely adore it but am saving mine to wear at the height of summer. It's lemony and airy with pillowish facets are a perfect antidote and compliment to the heat.

(image 2003 ad from hprints)

Sometimes animalic- full of smoke and leather, sometimes tender and child-like thanks to a vanilla and iris-rose heart, and at other times, nearly gustatory-gourmand with a citric kiss; no matter the woman, Shalimar always fascinates.


The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Red & Green for Christmas: Guerlain Fleur de Feu & Mitsouko


'Tis the season for all things red and green, and this Christmas my fancy is taken with this pair of color-correct Guerlains- Mitsouko (originally ~1919 and which mostly needs no introduction) and the less well known Fleur de Feu (1948, give or take). I love the magenta-pink jot of color on the Fleur de Feu (Fire Flower) bottle and the emerald-teal dot on the Mitsouko bottle. Both the bottles contain eau de cologne, which, as you might guess, is light. With Guerlain sometimes I don't mind the EDC concentration- when the scents are strong and assertive, the lighter sillage and lack of staying power isn't that much of a problem. And since I like to switch scents throughout the day I actually like the lighter formulations. Mitsouko is an especially good candidate for the eau de cologne treatment and the flavor remains true to the other Mitsouko examples I've known. Mitsouko, if you haven't smelt it yet, is a leathery chypre sandwich of dry peach opening and a sweet peach dry down, with mossy-forest, smoke and incense laden facets \layered in between. It has real depth, a tough and tender scent that is something to be appreciated as it develops over time. Needless to say, a big love... It represents the quiet, eventide part of my Christmas journey, filling the contemplative stillness and anticipation of a celebration to come..


As for it's sister scent,  Fleur de Feu (Fire Flower) is a lesser known Guerlain. It was released soon after WWII ended and not too many years later, it was discontinued. Many other
Guerlains are better known and more commonly discussed, so much that I've been scarcely aware of it's existance. Fleur de Feu somehow lacked the enduring charm that many of the other classic Guerlain perfumes seem to have had in plenty. I cannot even be certain that my example is well enough preserved to be a true representation of the oroginal scent particularly without a second source to compare it to. But from what I can smell, it isn't what I'd expect from something called Fleur de Feu because it is such a very soft type of scent. Perhaps I have anosmia to some key component? Although I was finally able to smell it distinctly, I had to decant the cologne and spray the entire inside of my shearing hat before I was able to catch and examine this perfume up close! It has some warmth but if I were to assign a color to this scent, it would be a rather pale yellow. I smell the iris and an almost lemony rose, along with touches of ylang and jasmine.It makes me think of  Chanel No. 5, more than any other Guerlain perfumes I know.  My cold is still bothering me a little, so I plan to resniffing but so far I can't get any carnation. It has a certain Maquillage quality almost as if its guerlainade was created with aldehydes rather than vanilla. I wonder how well it sold in the 1950s? Despite being so light, it still smells good enough to make someone crave an extra helping of hugs. I plan on wearing it, and the Mitsouko, plenty in the upcoming year and the big EDC bottles means I can splash them on with abandon.

The Vintage Perfume Vault, where the scent of yesterday's vogue lives.

Thanks to http://www.basenotes.com/ and http://www.toutenparfum.com/ for the old Guerlain ads!

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Coty Emeraude vs Guerlain Shalimar

First:

Emeraude, as portrayed by Marylin (uncredited studio shot)



Shalimar, as portrayed by Marilyn (photo credit: Bert Stern, 1962)

If a picture is worth a thousand words then these two photographs of Marilyn Monroe say more than enough about how I feel Emeraude and Shalimar stack up against each other. They are remarkably similar and a side-by-side sniff should be enough to convince you can that they must be related in some way. So what's the story about these two "twin" scents? Emeraude was created by Francois Coty in 1921; Shalimar by Jacques Guerlain was born four years later in 1925. At first it would seem perhaps natural that Emeraude would be the older, wiser sister and Shalimar the younger impetuous one. But if a well-loved story is true, Shalimar was actually created when a large quantity of some newly synthesized vanilla was unintentionally dumped into a vat of Jicky. Jicky was composed by Aime Guerlain in 1889. It is widely credited as the world's first 'modern' perfume.

Jicky Composition
Top: Lemon, Mandarin, Bergamot, Rosewood
Middle: Orris, Jasmin, Patchouli, Rose, Vetiver
Base: Leather, Amber, Civet, Tonka, Incense, Benzoin (from BaseNotes.net)

The revolutionary fact of Jicky wasn't it's individual elements- all these ingredients had been used in perfumery before; rather it was the way things were combined- new synthetics mixed with traditional distillations, the merging of yin and yang elements, masculine with feminine. This bold blend of florals and aromatics, on a base of feral/sour animal against sweet balsam was seen as a radical departure from the gentle single note flower waters and the zesty citrus/herbal colognes popular at that time. Women initially rejected this scent feeling it was too masculine. Guerlain's current version of Jicky has been softened by a dose of vanilla in the base and other changes. So if the story is true, from Jicky (1889) came Guerlain's masterpiece Shalimar(1925). Shalimar is said to be a love sonnet Jacques Guerlain composed for his young bride.

Shalimar Composition
Top note : Bergamot, Mandarin, Cedar, Lemon
Middle note : Patchouli, Jasmine, Rose, Orris
Base note : Vanilla, Benzoin, Peru Balsam, Leather (Ozmos version)

Jacques Guerlain increased the vanilla and added softness to re-create Jicky as Shalimar- a smoldering exotic but in keeping with the romantic feminine ideals of his day.

This is Guerlain's side of the story and even though Shalimar has been reformulated many times the essential form of Shalimar remains unchanged. If you are new to vintage perfumes, watch out for older or poorly decanted examples of Shalimar. It can age badly and when it does, ends up rancid and unwearable.

Emeraude's tale is less well know than Shalimar's perhaps but we do know that Coty began to create his perfumes around 1904 and Emeraude came out 4 years prior to Shalimar in 1921. By this time Coty had already composed a number of successful fragrances but Emeraude remains probably his most widely known, beloved and enduring creation.

Emeraude Composition:
Top notes: orange, bergamot and lemon;
Middle notes: jasmine, ylang ylang, rose and brazilian rosewood; (I say Iris/orris as well)
Base notes: amber, sandalwood, patchouli, opoponax, benzoin and vanilla. (from Fragrantica.com)

So is Emeraude an entirely new type developed by the mind of Coty alone or did it begin as an inspired copy (directly or indirectly) of Guerlain's influential Jicky? Or is Shalimar just Guerlain's redux of Coty's latest sensation? Comparing the listed notes above verifies the two perfumes have in common the citrus top with a jasmine, rose heart, subtle spices and a base that features vanilla and benzoin. The differences arise from Shalimar's use of a tart bergamot/cedar at the top, the addition of prominent leather notes and the extravagant, sublime balsam/vanilla base (more smokey, incense tinged). Emeraude has ylang and rosewood. There is only a hint of leather or skin, and a base of patchouli, myrrh, amber and sandalwood added (more spicy, less smoky). Perhaps you begin to sense the perfumers witchery the many different sometimes archane ways to combine and layer seemingly disparate notes to invent similar feeling scents...

The Review:


(photo credit: Uncle Sam Jones)

For reference my review is based on the perfume versions in the photograph above. The tiny bottle of Emeraude is a proper vintage version maybe around 1930-1940s. It was produced in Paris. I don't know the strength but it is called Emeraude de Coty. The Shalimar is a later eau de toilette. It comes in the bottle with vertical lines and black shoulders. I may be superstitious but I prefer Shalimar that comes in this bottle (was it the French version?). The larger bottle of Emeraude is a US 1960 - 1970s drug store version. Emeraude is extremely clean and pleasing at it's opening- lime, the ripe sweet fruit joined by the linden blossoms, with tiny hints of bell pepper and marmalade. Very soon the green begins to go cool and powdery as the first faint wintergreen/minty nuances appear. The iris/orris adds a violet/rose-lipstick facet; although sometimes I smell root beer instead at this stage (also a facet of the iris). The root beer/wintergreen aspect is what some people smell as a cola note. Inside of this lemon-lime soda smelling scent is tucked a clean almost soapy theme that gives the composition a more adult quality. The coolness creates a mist like sugar water mixed with absinthe. Creamy/nutty notes from the woods help to create an illusion- limes lingering upon the cleanest warmest skin, covered now in lace and powder, and lipstick but still so fresh from the bath that the odors of soap and toothpaste linger faintly in the air.

If Emeraude is the scent of a woman fresh from the shower, then Shalimar reveals that same woman later in the evening...
Shalimar is indeed somewhat shocking compared to the quietude that is Emeraude. In Shalimar everything has been amped up. The opening citrus blast is enough to peel lacquer! It's so potent that at first you suspect highly narcotic white flowers wait to ambush you but it all dissipates quickly to reveal a smoldering oriental rather than a killer flower bomb. Shalimar carries scent echos of the nightclubs of the roaring 20s... lingering smoke (and possibly you might catch the faintest traces of the sour, stale urine and worse because she had to step onto the dirty city streets) but this bombshell has returned home safe and sound. A hint of sweet lime still hovers about her delicate skin but it's mixed with tangy sweat. She is in the library now, with a warm fire. The scent of the leather furniture surrounds her, mingles with her scent - why, she is eating...vanilla ice cream! Now you are not sure if this woman is a femme fatal or a mostly innocent woman-child... I confess to prefer Shalimar to Emeraude. Yes, the tiny puffs of sour/ugly in Shalimar actually saves it from being too sweet and plainly pretty. The sourness disappears on my skin however this scent is one that really does smell differently depending on it's age, formula, your skin - everything seems to affect it. Usually you can tell after a few tries if Shalimar is going to work it's magic for you. But if it tends to go sour on you, then perhaps Emeraude will suit you better. With me, it goes too far the opposite way and develops the same too-sweet root beer note as Tabu can. While Shalimar is still produced and easy to find you have to search a little harder for Emeraude. In the US it can still be found pretty easily at several online perfume e-tailors and of course, on Ebay... but I always encourage you to get out and take a look around your town. And be sure to let me know what you think of what you find;)