Robert Piguet- Fracas (extrait de parfum)

I never wanted to wear Fracas until trying it in pure parfum. When smelling the EDP all I got was that big Big BIG tuberose. With a side of tuberose. And then it brings its friends gardenia, orange blossom and jasmine, and the entire thing is lush, feminine and undeniably gorgeous. But the combination, structure and general vibe were too much like the way Karl Lagerfeld's original Chloe used to smell in the late 1970s and early 80s, before they started cheapening the formula. And that means this 1948 Piguet fits my mother perfectly, so I bought her a bottle, got her addicted and promptly crossed Fracas off my list.

Still, I have a thing for Robert Piguet perfumes. Between the history of the house and my beloved Bandit, after a while I was curious enough to give the parfum a chance, and that was when I fell in love.

Fracas parfum holds back a little. It's not just the more restrained sillage but also something in the balance between the flower notes and the greenery. I don't get much (or any, really) jonquil from the EDP, because the tuberose-gardenia combo makes too much olfactory noise for me. The parfum scales it back and the narcissus note emerges beautifully and brings its typical dryness to the front.

I also find the parfum a bit sweeter in the dry-down. Fracas is creamy in every incarnation, but the sandalwood in the extrait is more prominent, rounder and tones down the exuberance of this southern belle.  The higher concentration is still an extrovert with a dominant presence and a clear voice, but it also offers more depth and introspection. It has a hidden side- like a beauty queen that writes poetry and is also very good at math.

Fracas is the most popular and easiest to find among Robert Piguet perfumes. Many department stores offer the eau de parfum and some also have the parfum ($95, 0.25oz), including Sephora. There's also an entire range of bath and body products that can be purchased directly from robertpiguetparfums.com.

1940s illustration by Roy Best from myvintagevogue.com

Robert Piguet- Futur (2009 Version)

The 2009 relaunch of Futur, a Robert Piguet classic from the 1960s (no idea why it's listed as a 1974 release on Basenotes), smells modern but with decidedly vintage roots. The dry woods are smooth and just a bit peppery and the scent is very gender-neutral. There are no flirtatious frills in its floral heart and there's no sweetness whatsoever. What you do get is a lot of crisp notes and galbanum to thrill lovers of green perfumes.

There's quite a bit going on there- a hint of chypre (though only a smidgen. Blame IFRA) reminiscent of Vent Vert in its glory days, a very soapy jasmine and some galbanum to show us Futur hails from the same house as Bandit. But while Bandit is a creature of the night, haunted by demons, fetishes and unspoken secrets, Futur is a young and innocent sibling that never forgets to wash behind its ears.

Futur might be the easiest perfume to wear in the modern Piguet line. It's effortless, elegant and clean in the best possible way. I wish it were stronger and more assertive, but maybe the lack of aggressiveness is part of the charm. Dabbing from samples is not very satisfying, but whenever I spray from a tester it lasts quite a bit, so I hope there's a full bottle in my future.

Futur by Robert Piguet ($85, 1.7oz) is available at Henri Bendel and Neiman Marcus. I got a couple of samples at Bendel.

Images:
Futur ad from 1967 hprints.com
1960s Fashion ad myvintagevogue.com

Robert Piguet- Cravache

Cravache is probably the weakest link in the otherwise excellent and captivating reissued Robert Piguet line. That's not to say that Cravache is bad or poorly made. It's not. But next to stunners like Bandit and Fracas or the beautiful and intriguing Visa and Futur, a starched and stiff traditional men's fragrance doesn't stand much chance.

It has all the familiar elements: a blink-and-you-miss-it citrus burst at the top, a lavender, spice and green herbs heart that holds the questionable achievement of smelling both generic and formal and a patchoulified drydown. Regular readers know I have no problem wearing perfumes with a heavy testosterone marketing vibe, but this version of a Piguet classic (the 1963 original is rumored to have had a leather note) is something I can't spend a full day wearing. It's just not fun.

Not that a full day is even possible- Cravache is too weak and thin for my skin, despite the promised vetiver-patchouli base. It behaves too much like an eau de cologne- light, airy and fleeting, especially when dabbed from a sample. I had to give the perfume a couple of hefty sprays from the testers before I could form a real impression. This probably makes Cravache even easier to wear for conservative souls, but doesn't particularly endear it to me (or to the husband).

I'd say Cravache is a safe fragrance for a Father's Day gift, but since my dad is a bit more fashion forward when it comes to scent I'm going to skip this one.

Craveache by Robert Piguet ($55, 1.7oz) is available from Neiman Marcus (including online), Saks and Henri Bendel. It also comes in an aftershave and body wash form.

Photo: Summer afternoon on Piccadilly, London- Frank Horvat, 1959

Spray With Caution: Robert Piguet Visa

I remember reading the descriptions for the reconstructed Visa from Robert Piguet and thinking it was probably not for me, but I guess that once I stopped worrying and learned to love the pulp, I was ready to take on some perfumes that previously I would have skipped.

The peach and pear alone would normally send me running for the hills, but while in Paris I got adventurous and gave it a try. And then another one. And another one. The scent haunted me enough to seek it out until I finally broke down and surrendered. Why?

What did me in was the chyprey-leathery feel. It's entirely grown up and very sexy in a lush, rich, fully-clothed way. The fruit is as far away from the mall-bought body sprays that come to mind when you think of pear and peach notes. They are intertwined with a boozey warm rose note that calls to mind a similar combination in Parfum Delrae Bois De Paradis (berries, in that case), and I even get a decent amount of violet, a note that too often goes away to die when it meets my skin.

It's interesting how my skin retains the fruit for as long as the perfume is there (which is nearly forever. Like most fruit scents, all the king's horses and all the king's men can't make it go away), infusing the leather, moss and other rich base notes and making them fuller, more 3-D, if that makes any sense. I don't know how much moss they actually put in this, considering that it's a commercial fragrance, but the chypre kick is unmistakable (though don't expect anything Bandit-like. These scents come from the same house but you'd never know it).

If we go back to the Bois de Paradis comparison, Visa is more restrained and not as loud, but it's still a big one, with lots of sillage. One spray too many and it becomes a flesh eating creature on the same level as Angel. So it needs to be handled with care as to not become a tacky cliché (which is why I chose the artwork you see above). Used just right and it's a thing of beauty that would appeal to fans of Malle's Le Parfum de Thérèse.

In Perfumes- The Guide, Tania Sanchez, who smelled the original 1947 creation, says that our 2007 version is fully modernized and cannot be mistaken for a classic from a bygone era. While I somewhat agree, I still get a retro feel from the new Visa, especially when compared to the Delrae scent or (and don't throw anything heavy at me) to the new Secret Obsession from Calvin Klein. The latter is not bad at all, even if it's very mainstream and lacking in edge. But my point is that Secret Obsession is a rich spiced plum with a surprisingly adult drydown (compared to those LOLfrags CK has released in recent years this was a very nice encounter for me), but still very modern, while Visa has vintage, red lipstick and black hat vibe.

While I've heard that there's a quality issue with American-made Piguet fragrance, my NYC-bought bottle says "Made in France", so there might have been some changes in distribution (my two year old Bandit is an older, USA product). Unlike in Paris, where I saw these scents just about everywhere, here you can either order online from the Piguet website, or buy them at Henri Bendel on 5th Avenue, which is what I did (and how I ended up with a 100 ml bottle, as they didn't have the smaller size). There's also a pure parfum, and I have to tell you, I'm highly tempted.

Image: Enigma of the Generations by Michael Cheval

Taming the Bandit

My first meeting with Bandit by Robert Piguet was a head-on collision. I bought a bottle of the (modern version) EdP blind, based on the notes that I was supposed to love (and on the fact that Sephora had it on sale for a drugstore-like price): Spice, carnation, leather, jasmine, vetiver, patchouli and musk. What's better than vetiver and leather? The problem was spraying it in abandon on a hot summer day. The result felt nothing like my dream of spicy, carnation-laced leather. Instead I got an ashy, rancid old boot that was tossed out of a car into an old swamp. Extreme? You bet. But I wasn't ready to give up on this classic from 1944 (re-issued in 2005) with a cool note list and even cooler name. I was going to tame the bandit and make it work.

It needed to wait till the worst of summer was over, and then spray carefully. That helped. A lot. All of a sudden the actual perfume part of the juice started to reveal itself. It's so well blended that the florals don't stand alone: They are smokey, leathery florals (or the leather is smokey-floral, take your pick). OsMoz doesn't list oakmoss as a note, yet it's definitely a chypre, big in presence and character, unapologetic and very demanding.

There's a duality in this scent. A modern nose would not label it as a woman's perfume. On the contrary: Most of us wouldn't even blink had it been issued as a masculine fragrance. Yet, here and there there's something very femme about it if worn with the right outfit and matching makeup (red lipstick is a must here). The leather and smoke are sexy, yet I get a clean and soapy note in the drydown that keeps the garter belt and Cruella de Vil hidden, and wouldn't cause children and small animals to flee in terror.

Bandit is worth at least sniffing and trying. At the right moment it would make you hear Nina Simone singing Pirate Jenny. I wouldn't recommend buying unsniffed (which is true for every perfume, actually), especially since it's no longer dirt cheap and it's a challenging fragrance that requires getting used to, unless one has been rocking dry chypres and big leathers on a daily basis. I like it well enough, but it's not going to top or even join my list of favorite leather scents (Cuir Ottoman, Lonestar Memories, Daim Blond and Dzing!).

...
And the ship
The Black Freighter
disappears out to sea
And on it
is
me

All Fragrances, Great and Small

Despite the lack of fragrance posts lately, I've been sampling and testing quite a bit, and adding several new ones to my ever-growing wish list.

L'Artisan Perfumeur- Premier Figuier Extreme: I love it, and it's no big surprise, as fig (or fig leaf) is one of my favorite notes. I've always been a fan of the Fig Leaf and Cassis line from The Thymes, but their cologne is exactly that- a very weak and flat juice and not an EdP. They really disappointed me when they discontinued their environmental oil, which I used in my lamp rings almost daily. But here, at last, is the real thing: deep, warm, rich but keeps its green freshness. It's both comforting and sexy, has a dark edge to it but very wearable. The gorgeous limited edition bottle in the picture can be found at Aedes. The regular bottle is available from Luckyscents, and I also spotted it at my local C.O. Bigelow in Paramus.

L'artisan Perfumeur-Dzonkha: This could be described as Premier Figuier's complete opposite. But I still love it. There's nothing comforting about its serious presence. It's a calm, confident, stony-faced scent, aware of its beauty and accomplishments. For me, it doesn't evoke a Bhutanese fortress (not really surprising, as I've never been there or seen one), but it makes me think of Midtown Manhattan on a cloudy grey day. Steel, skyscrapers and the concrete pavements. Either way, it's complex, cold and very unisex. Like many scents of this kind, I liked it better on my husband than on myself. However, he has found it a bit too bitter to wear comfortably.
A far better review of Dzonkha by Greeneyes can be found here.

Yosh- Winter Rose: This isn't a masterpiece. The reason I feel it needs to be stated is the fact that an 8 ml bottle of this perfume oil is sold for $200, which puts it right there with the most expensive of the JAR line (about $800 for 30 ml for Bolt of Lightning). However, this isn't a JAR creation. It's not as complex, interesting and well-blended and it doesn't give you the otherworldly impression that Mr. Rosenthal's work does. Don't get me wrong: It's a really nice one. It's rosy and spicy, and on my skin the cardamon was very dominant (I think I also detected a hint of saffron, though it's not a listed note). I like cardamon in chai, in rice, and apparently, I also like wearing it. But I don't adore it that much. It's a limited edition, only 250 bottles are available at Luckyscent.

Il Profumo- Encens Epice: I really loved this one. Not all incense fragrances work this well for me (I can't stand CdG's Zagorsk or the original Regina Harris). But this one has a lot to offer when it comes to spice and wood. Coriander seeds, cypress and a drydown of blond tobacco are making it smell rich and honeyed, cozy but with enough character to keep things interesting. It's a great cold weather scent, in my opinion, and can probably be worn by both men and women, though I used every drop of my sample without testing it on my husband. I tested the EdP, but when I get a full bottle I'll probably go with the oil.

Tocca Perfume- Florence, Stella and Touch: Tocca's famous candles had many people eagerly waiting for the personal fragrance version. I don't use candles (a result of allergies and a house full of cats), so I wasn't familiar with the scents, only with their reputation. I was especially curious about Stella and its orange flowery goodness. I sniffed the bottle a couple of months ago and nearly bought it based on that. I'm very glad that I didn't. On the skin it becomes a very sweet orange confection. March from Perfume Posse described it as an upscale nouvelle cuisine orange creamsicle, and I agree. It's dessert-like until the drydown that is all musk and reminds me a lot of Valentino V Absolu. Nice enough, but doesn't rock my world.
Neither did Touch, with its fruity-floral boring composition that turned into a heady white floral and not in a good way. But the worst was Florence. March blames it on the cabbage rose note, but what made it into a horrible scrubber as far as I'm concerned, was the bathroom-worthy jasmine. It was horrible and hard to wash off. Florence has clung to my skin like nothing else in my memory and required lots of hot water, soap and hand cream until it was finally gone. I kept sniffing my wrist in panic that a trace of it might still be there.
If you must, both Sephora and Bergdorf sell them, as well as Luckyscents (link above).

Robert Piguet- Fracas: This fragrance doesn't really belong on the list, as it's a classic one from 1948. Also, I've sniffed it a couple of times in the past, so it wasn't really new to me. However, last week I decided to test it, so it is worth talking about.
The reason I avoided it for so long was my original impression that it smelled just like Chloe, my mom's favorite fragrance of all time. Through all the years of living in the same house as countless Chloe bottles, I've never once actually tried it. It was my mother's signature scent and so identified with her that I couldn't (and still can't) even think of giving it a try. However, two things have happened in recent years. My mother started to venture out of this tuberose comfort zone and Chloe had been demoted and degraded into a drugstore EdT (the original EdP in the milky glass bottle has been discontinued).
This is why my wrist has found itself sprayed with Fracas. And, I was right, It does smell just like the old Chloe, only with more depth and richness. It's a similar white floral combination (the infamous tuberose, orange, lily of the valley, jasmine, gardenia and a musky finish. It's pretty, but I can't be objective or adequately describe it. Also, I can't wear it. It smells like my mother.

Anat Fritz-Anat Fritz: This is a new one, created by a knitwear designer who is based in Berlin. As far as I know, here in the U.S. the fragrance is a Luckyscent exclusive. It's a typical cold-weather scent that starts with a distinct lavender note that doesn't completely go away even as the scent wears on. It is joined by vetiver and woods to create a very clean and dry experience. It can be easily worn by men as to my nose it lacks any of the traditional feminine notes and it isn't seductive or flirty in any way. But it is very pleasant, interesting and caused me to bring my wrist to my nose many times during the EdP long wear. But, it's true beauty is revealed when it's lightly sprayed on sweaters and coats. I think I need a bottle just to keep in my closet and make my clothes smell divine. The fact that I also like wearing it is simply a bonus.