Penhaligon's Violetta eau de toilette

Penhaligon’s Violetta starts out like death by violets. But unlike Le Dix, the violets in Violetta are only slightly powdery, and way, way more crisp and green. The tiny powder note almost completely fades after the initial drydown, and the greens emerge: think leafy greens as opposed to stemmy. Violetta smells like after a rain shower (similar in many aspects to Guerlain’s Apres l’Ondee, although I haven't spent much time with that one). It reminds me of a fresh spring day after it rains, when the earth is steaming and you can still hear the water dripping from the leaves high up in the trees. To me, it smells watery without the dreaded marine note. Rather, it reminds me of a watercolor painting. It’s very cool, light and delicate, and doesn’t have much sillage. It stays close to my skin and ends up just smelling good. From time to time, I get the smallest hint of pine and woods. It’s a soliflore and was created in 1976, the year of my birth. It was meant to be! It’s tough reviewing a perfume I really love. After a while, I can’t analyze it anymore. It just smells like me, like something comforting, and carries with it all my past associations of it.

I visited Penhaligon’s on a whim while in Edinburgh in 2005. I saw it on my way to Jo Malone, and only stopped in because I’d read about Bluebell being Prince Charles’ and Kate Moss’ favorite scent. I was on a Jo Malone mission—-funny--now it would be the total opposite. I loved the Jo Malone experience, but made an unfortunate impromptu purchase. I'm sorry I didn't spend more time at Penhaligon's.

I didn't buy anything that day- it wasn't until a random stop in Glasgow where I bought the little tin of samples and asked them for a sample of Violetta. The first time I got around to try it was the summer of 2006. At the time I was living in a terribly uninsulated upstairs apartment and it was really, really hot. I fell in love with Violetta's cool freshness. It ended up being the first bottle of perfume I ordered online (save an inexpensive bottle of Fiorucci that I bought years ago from Sephora, unsniffed, because I love the store in Verona, Italy, so much. Thank god I liked it! A fizzy, fruity floral, nothing I would normally wear, but yummy indeed). With Violetta, I felt like I’d arrived. I was officially a perfumista. I’ve never looked back!

Balenciaga Le Dix, eau de toilette

Le Dix starts out very powdery and full of violets. I tend to reach for it in the spring because of its violets, but it could be worn any time of year. Those who don’t like powdery scents may not care much for Le Dix; there are moments when it’s just a huge (wonderful) powder bomb. Then again, it’s super classy, and the powder is more violet-toned than baby powder, so you might give it a shot.

Anyway, it’s a burst of powdery violets at first which slowly melts into smooth, creamy violets. A few hours later and for the remainder of the day, it smells wonderfully fresh and nice and very comforting, like a warm mom or favorite auntie. It’s all at once floral and indefinable. It smells very French, and very old-school. Le Dix is quite aldehydic, which contributes to its vintage qualities. Aldehydes are hard to define. They're synthetic molecules that not only enhance other scents in a perfume, but also carry their own powdery and sharp odor, which, unfortunately, gives perfume a perfume-y or “old lady smell.”

I wish there was another title than "old lady." Perhaps instead we could call a perfume a generational smell, and refer to it as something so unmistakably between the two World Wars. I think "oldy lady" perfume got its name because so many classic, older perfumes contain aldeydes (Chanel No. 5, launched in 1921, was the first perfume to use them) and that older women, then in their youth, discovered these scents when they first came into fashion and quickly made them their own. And they still love them. I do, too!

Aldehydic scents are quite civilized, I think. I’d much rather have that “old lady smell” than the generic, watery, ozonic fruity floral that my generation will surely be remembered by (ahem, Calvin Klein, I’m talking to you). I think, too, that perhaps older people lose their sense of smell and therefore really pile on the perfume. Again, though, loads of Chanel No. 5 vs. Eternity is fine by me.

Some great suggestions for other aldehydic fragrances can be found here, and an excellent review about Le Dix can be found here.

I read that Le Dix is named for Balenciaga’s address on 10, avenue George V, in Paris. *le sigh*

I bought my tiny little 10 mL bottle (the perfect size, in my opinion) for $11.99 at Imagination Perfumery. I think I must have bought the last bottle, but they do still have bigger sizes available for decent prices.

Serge Lutens Bois de Violette eau de parfum

I first smelled Bois de Violette in 2005 on a perfume tour in Paris. My guide took me to Serge Lutens, a house I'd never heard of, on the first stop on the tour. I remember thinking, huh, nice perfume tour, why aren't we going to Jean Patou? Or Chanel? If only I knew then what I know now ... Bois de Violette would have been mine much sooner.

The sales associate at Serge Lutens sized me up and down and suggested I sample Un Lys. She put a drop on my arm and then had me compare it against each other fragrance I tested. Un Lys: so pretty and fresh! Next up was something or other-- Douce Amere, maybe; I liked Un Lys better. Then, Bois de Fruits; which did I like better? Un Lys. Next: Bois de Violette-- which did I prefer? I smelled both arms again and again and couldn't decide. Un Lys was gorgeous on me: all white lillies and dainty flower petals. Bois de Violette, however, was just as pretty, but in a darker, woodsier way. I smelled tones of vanilla and sweet wood, hints of violets and forest floor. Ultimately, I prefered Un Lys, but it didn't matter because in the end, I didn't buy either one. I told my guide, I don't want to blow my wad now when there's two more houses to visit (Guerlain and Montale). I left Serge Lutens with a small wax sample booklet and beautifully scented arms.

What a bust! Guerlain didn't do anything for me (although my aunt fell hopelessly in love with Mitsouko parfum) and neither did Montale (I did meet Monsieur Montale, who gave me a decant of Crystal Flowers in exchange for a kiss -- story to follow in a future post). I didn't buy anything at either house. I went back to Serge Lutens the next day while on a walk with my dad but they were closed. I did manage to get a small sample of A La Nuit from Sephora, but aside from that, I left France with no Serge Lutens.

Flash forward a year later to me unearthing that wax sample booklet. I retried Un Lys and found it way too heady and airy. Bois de Violette, however, was just like I remembered it: all cedar and violets swirling around in competition with each other. I couldn't wait to get to Serge Lutens on my next visit to Paris.

I bought it on the last day of my visit. I saved it for last because it was the biggest, most fragile bottle, and I didn't want it to break in my backpack while traveling. It's a bell jar and has no spritzer. It was wildly expensive, but worth it. Paris is the only place it's available. It felt so luxurious walking through the arcades and gardens afterwards with a tiny Serge Lutens bag on that sunny fall day. When I got it home, I decanted it to a small spritzer and gave myself a spray. I couldn't wait to bask in the glory of violets. I'd waited so long-- two years!

I didn't like it.

It wasn't how I remembered it. It was so ... unusual. The cedar just took over. I couldn't detect any violets. It turned strangely smoky on my skin after 10 minutes. It had a sweetness I couldn't place - not a candied violet sweetness, but a more vanilla smoky tea sweetness. I didn't wear it for weeks, months. The little spritzer on my dresser taunted me. Occasionally I'd give it a spray but it made me feel claustrophobic. It was simply too much.

Eventually, I decided not to spray it, but rather spray a cotton ball and dab it lightly on my wrist. I had to give it another go, especially in this cold weather. It's much more an autumn/winter scent to me. It works much better on my skin now that I'm dabbing it. A little goes a long way on me. I think when I sprayed, too much came out and it was overpowering.

I've been wearing Bois de Violette all week and it keeps intriguing me each time I wear it. To my nose, the first few notes are soda-like; cream soda, ginger ale, vanilla. It smells like a smooth cedar plank. It's so warm. The violet comes out on my skin after about 25 minutes. I get impatient sometimes waiting for it, but the warm woodsy cedar keeps me smelling. I still don't know if I'm in love with it or not; but for that reason, I think I must be. It's limitless on my skin. It keeps me on my toes. It's soothing and comforting. It's something I reach for when I want to feel warm. It's like a cashmere sweater. It's quite possibly the most intersting perfume I've ever smelled.

Violet Moss soap, by Fresh

I had high expectations for Fresh's Violet Moss soap. I just finished the Roger & Gallet Citron soap yesterday (I was spoiled; that bar lasted more than two months, kept its shape, retained its scent and continued to produce a wonderful lather). Seeing I'm on a violet kick, I reached for Violet Moss today.

The packaging is what lured me to buy it, even before the fragrance. It's gorgeous! All those purple and silver swirls, its little wire ribbon; this soap would make a perfect gift. I debated buying it; at $12, and no tester to smell, it was a bit of a gamble. I'm not entirely disappointed, but my expectations got the better of me.

The bar is good sized; in fact, I cut it in half. It's pure vegetable soap "enriched" with shea butter. First sniff, dry: very light and floral, like a sheer violet. I detected the tiniest hints of light greens, and a vague hint of earthiness. More than anything, it smelled like ... soap. Good, clean soap, but nothing special.

In the shower, Violet Moss was virtually unscented. I don't get nearly enough violet, and no moss whatsoever. My skin felt a little dry afterwards. It's nice, but overall, it's plain and unsatisfyingl. I'm glad I'm only stuck with half a bar. Hopefully, it'll go fast.

I feel most Fresh products are all about hype and good packaging. I used to love their soy shampoo, but after a while it dried out my hair. (It smells great, though.) Overall, I wouldn't seek out Fresh soap again, but I would certainly display a bar if I ever received one as a gift.