Givenchy- Eau de Givenchy (Vintage EDT)

There's no way around this: Eau de Givenchy in its original form smells like a time traveler. It's the oakmoss.

Yesterday I reviewed here a very modern perfume, Donna Karan Pure DKNY, a fragrance that represents what I see as the wrong side of clean and fresh. But what do I know? Loving the clean scents of yore, those based on sharp green florals, biting citrus and oakmoss make me just as much a relic as my bottle of Eau de Givenchy. Once upon a time this was considered a light daytime, almost sporty perfume. You'd spray and wait for that bracing astringent feeling to take over and make you feel... fresh. You'd relish the crispness of the herbal notes that suggests good personal hygiene, put on a white seater and leave the house basking in your scent.

Eau de Givenchy quickly moves into oakmoss territory and stays there. It's plush, rich and plays beautifully with the green flower notes such as muguet and marigold. One's reaction to Eau de Givenchy is entirely dependent on how he or she feels about real chypres in general and real oakmoss in particular. Many a young nose find them horribly dated. Others just want to roll in them the way my cat Lizzy rolls on a bunch of parsley. I'm with Lizzy here, loving oakmoss and missing perfumes built around it and around a real green heart that doesn't smell synthetic.

Notes: bergamot, spearmint, tagetes, greens, fruits, honeysuckle, jasmine, muguet, tuberose, rose, cyclamen, orris, musk, cedarwood, sandalwood and oakmoss.

Eau de Givenchy was withdrawn for a while and re-released in 2007 or 2008 as part of the Les Mythiques de Givenchy collection in the new bottles (in few department stores on this side of the pond, easier to find in Europe). Considering IFRA restrictions on the use of oakmoss in perfume, your guess on what's in those rectangular bottles is as good as mine.

Image: model in Givenchy on the cover of L'Official, a French fashion magazine, June 1968

Donna Karan - Pure DKNY

The first twenty minutes or so of Donna Karan Pure DKNY aren't too bad. The first time I tested it I remember thinking "well, I can sort of live with this today". I guess I was in an incredible good and forgiving mood, because while it is, indeed, an aquatic floral as I was warned, I could smell that vanilla drop and hoped for the best. The best never came.

I would have been happy with a musky skin scent, something cuddly and mostly innocent like Kate Walsh Boyfriend that came along later last year and surprised everyone by actually being nice. I wanted the equivalent of the first ad but instead got the second, assuming that kid is fully potty trained.

 I don't get any skin and warmth from Pure DKNY.  I can't think of any other perfumes right now that manage to be musky and aquatic at the same time. Maybe it's a new category,  the culmination of fragrances made to smell like fabric softener, because focus groups don't want to smell like perfume. They want to smell clean. And fresh. And have I mentioned clean?

By the time an hour passes I feel and smell like my shower is chasing me. Or maybe the house has become humid and because all the faucets are leaking and the cats knocked down a bottle of detergent and someone turned the heat all the way up and somewhere there's a flower dying. Yes, Donna Karan has created a nightmare. But it's a clean nightmare, right?

Pure DKNY doesn't last very long and doesn't leave any kind of impression once its gone. Perfume enthusiasts often lament and/or make fun of SAs who try to sell us the Jus de Jour touting its amazing freshness and lightness and how you'd feel like you just stepped out of the shower. We all know the spiel and some of us just want to go after the SA and spray him or her with some MKK.

Donna Karan - Pure DKNY, $85 for 3.4 oz at Sephora.

Krigler- Cosy Cedar Wood

I don't know who formed the notion that dry wood perfumes are masculine and do not belong in a woman's wardrobe. Why are bitter green perfumes or warm and very dry ones automatically labelled as manly? Seriously, I am and have always been as girly as they come, but I'm more likely to covet and wear cedar and cypress than magnolia and rose. And considering skin chemistry, my nearest and dearest should be thankful for that.

Krigler is one of those little NYC secrets, though the brand was actually born in Europe around the turn of the (20th) century. The house's archives include around 200 scents created over the span of one hundred years, but the perfumery as we know it today was reopened and reinvented in the NY Plaza Hotel in 2009. Cosy Cedar Wood was created in 1972 as a perfume for men. It's a straight-laced kind of thing. Dry, smooth and completely devoid of sweetness or darkness. But Krigler still managed to hide a little surprise there. Just as I thought I figured it all out and that Cosy Cedar Wood is all about warmth, spice and the inside of a long cabin in the woods, there's a second element, prickly-but-not-quite green, a whiff of  incense and an almost conifer-like sharpness. Maybe someone opened a window and let the night air in.

It's the cypress and the rosemary that are a bit too sharp for my taste and take away from the smooth and dry feel of the perfume. It's not unpleasant and actually ends up smelling really nice on my skin, but I prefer the incredible comfort of the dry sauna (such a favorite winter treat) I get from the first hour or so of the scent. All in all, Krigler's Cosy Cedar Wood is, indeed, cozy, woody and incredibly nice. It smells well-bred and a little country club in the best possible way. It's not the kind of perfume that would make most weak at the knees but it's attractive and nicely done.The sillage is polite and longevity is excellent (a couple of drops last most of the day and longer than that on clothes).

Notes: Cedar wood from India, lemon, ylang-ylang, fig, cypress, rosemary, vetiver, nutmeg and incense.

Cosy Cedar Wood ($145, 1.7oz) is available from krigler.com where you can also order samples, as well as the small boutique in the Plaza (which is where I obtained my sample).

Image: Spinnerin 1967 from myvintagevogue.com.

Givenchy Harvest 2007 Amarige Mimosa

This one is Abigail's fault. She reviewed Givenchy Harvest 2007 Amarige Mimosa on I Smell Therefore I Am, made me go look for it and fall ridiculously in love. It's even more surprising because it's not that Mimosa 2007 isn't even trying to hide its relationship with Amarige, a perfume to which I've been opposed for years (and forcing me to reevaluate* my stand on that one as well).

So, yes, Givenchy Harvest 2007 Mimosa is a gentrified Amarige. I've always considered the original a vulgar fruity-floral with a toxic tuberose (coming from someone who loves Michael it has to mean something) and a cheap vanilla base. In Mimosa 2007 the offending part, the melon note, was replaced with a hefty dose of sunny florals, especially violets and a nice helping of high-quality mimosa, both the French variety from Grasse and the more exotic Tamil Nadu mimosa from south-east India. It's the honeyed smooth influence of the mimosa that brings out the best of the peach and plum notes from the opening notes and makes them round and summery. I also smell the violets quite distinctly which is another nice improvement.

The overall impression of Givenchy Amarige Mimosa Harvest is honeyed, a bit fuzzy and quite ambery, in color and in nature. The base is much more refined than the original, despite very similar notes of cashmeran wood, tonka bean, benzoine and vanilla. I'm guessing that this limited edition perfume won the better ingredients and probably also had the proportions tweaked a little for smoothness. It's still very sweet and some might find it treacly, and definitely strong (in his review of the original Amarige, Luca Turin has suggested that if one must wear it, not only you should do it in private but also seal the windows. I can't really blame him for the sentiment). But I also find it not only wearable but also delightful and satisfying.

Notes: Mimosa (Tamil Nadu), Neroli, Rosewood, Mimosa leaves, Violet, Cassie, Gardenia, Jasmine, Mimosa (Grasse), Orange blossom, Ylang-ylang, Cashmeran, Sandalwood, Amber, Vanilla.

*My enjoyment of my Amarige Mimosa bottle has forced me to dig up a mini of the original Givenchy bomb I've been keeping for reference. I have a little extrait de parfum circa 1999 or 2000, which is only slightly less intrusive and violent than the common EDT. I smell the similarities and can appreciate even more the work done on Mimosa. I still find Amarige very difficult, even if I can now deal with it, at least in extrait, where the tuberose is not a monstrous mutant and I do wear the ambery dry-down pretty well. Still, I placed the bottle back in the back of the cabinet, where it will remain until further notice.

All the Givenchy Harvest perfumes are released as a limited edition. The 2007 Amarige Mimosa is sold out now, but there was also a 2009 version (I haven't tried it) that can still be found here and there.

Images-
Fashion illustration of  Givenchy leopard print from inkbramble.com
Givench Fall 2011 from WWD

Krizia- Teatro Alla Scala

There's something about the incredible lushness of 1980s Italian perfumes. Just like the original Fendi (1985), Teatro Alla Scala by Krizia comes from the same school of thought that a real woman needs to be smelled as well as seen. I'm all for that.

Teatro Alla Scala walks the line between a rich floriental and an animalic chypre. It has a very strong core of honey that goes with both the floral notes and the dark base, making it that much dirtier and more sumptuous at the same time. If this Krizia perfume were an object, I'd see it as a patent leather belt in a very dark burgundy color, bordering on maroon. Something with the feel of 1980s couture, just a little overdone.

You know that it's not an everyday casual perfume from the very first smell of the opening. Teatro Alla Scala gives you all it's got as soon as you spray it (maybe dubbing would be better, by the way, but I haven't tried). Dry fruit in honeyed mulled wine gilded with aldehydes. Usually aldehyde notes serve to lighten up and make a perfume feel fizzy and sparkling, but here they contribute to the ornamental baroque atmosphere. The opulence continues with a heart of blended flowers in full bloom. The rose is identifiable, but it mostly melts into the honey and darker base notes.

Once Teatro Alla Scala is in full bloom, the resemblance to Fendi is most evident. There's sweetness and lots of oakmoss involved, marking it with the 80s stamp and draping a one's shoulder with a plush coat. When Krizia released Teatro Alla Scalla people still wore Poison to the office. Nowadays this is something I'd reserve for a night out (or in), and usually dress appropriately. Big hair not necessary.

Notes (via Fragrantica): Top notes are aldehydes, coriander, fruity notes and bergamot; middle notes are carnation, tuberose, orris root, jasmine, beeswax, ylang-ylang, rose and geranium; base notes are patchouli, musk, benzoin, civet, oakmoss, vetiver and incense.

Krizia has discontinued Teatro Alla Scala. I verified it by checking the brand's website, which is magnificently awful. It has the most ridiculous information architecture, annoying Flash and not a word in English. To find their perfume range one needs to look under the most recent fashion collection and go into the accessories section. Thankfully, finding bottles of Teatro Alla Scala doesn't take that much effort as they still pop out online here and there, miraculously at better prices than Fendi.

Photo of Krizia 1986 fashion from dearjackie.net.