I wrote this long ago: “A rare instance of finely tuned coherence between the celadon coloured packaging and the opalescent green smell. Love it or hate it, Eden is one of the most distinctive perfumes in recent years, with an extraordinary raspy-suave, peculiarly stagnant start, little or no evolution in time and tremendous tenacity. Owning it makes perfect sense, but wearing it is another matter. Eden is undoubtedly a brilliant, cerebral exercise in perfumery, but who wants to smell like wet cashmere?”
_Ah, Hédènne….Perfume journalists are still talking about the 1994 launch, which took place in some sort of aircraft hangar near Paris and involved a large artificial island surrounded by water, covered in real jungle and populated by naked adolescents of both sexes. I'd tell you more, but I wasn’t there. They did send me, though, a 30 ml spray of the EdP. 11 years later, yesterday to be exact, I walked into my local pharmacy looking for plastic atomizer bottles and caught an unmistakable whiff of Eden in the air. Sure enough, the tester was on the counter. Now instant recognition can be a clear sign of fondness for a tune, voice, face and, of course, perfume. And, with the help of hindsight, serendipity and ten years of ever-sweeter masculine fragrances, I managed at long last to answer the question I asked at the end of my old review: I do.
July 09, 2005 | Permalink
COMMENTS
It's so funny how the distance of time can cause us to reshape our opinions sometimes. Not just perfume, obviously.
However, there is one perfume that I can still instantly recognize, and not because of a true fondness. Rather, it's the inverse. Tabu and I have never gotten along, and to this day when I smell someone wearing it I get literally nauseous. For me this instant recognition is sadly a sign I must run away(!) before I become ill.
One scent that isn't very common anymore is Laura Ashley's No. 1, but I know it when I smell it on someone. I recall when it came out I found it just a little oppressive, but I'm curious to find out what I would think of it on myself now that there is a wide chunk of time between myself and those old impressions. (But I'm not so curious, I guess, to pay the price to obtain a bottle of it for the price it goes for these days!)
Posted by: Katie | July 09, 2005 at 03:44 PM
before for objective reasons and now your tastes seem to be diferent._According to me,this fragance is not the one you can wear and like when wore at the time,you must wait and smell it after hours,then it is maybe pleasurable._It is maybe all the same about cacharel perfumes in general...Too hard to love them at first,then you learn how to appreciate them,even though you know they are not excellent...
Posted by: julien | July 10, 2005 at 08:14 PM
I never really hated it, but now I see how original it was all along.... I agree about Cacharel: Loulou, for example, is another hard-to-wear masterpiece.
Posted by: luca turin | July 10, 2005 at 08:43 PM
"I managed at long last to answer the question I asked at the end of my old review: I do."
Yes, that's right, you DO, and that is why we love you so much, Luca Turin!!
Posted by: yellow nose of texas | July 11, 2005 at 05:36 AM wet cashmere! perfect description.
Posted by: mary | July 11, 2005 at 01:52 PM
Ha! I once asked the same about Lorenzo Villoresi's Piper Nigrum ("It smells fantastic, just like freshly ground black pepper, but who wants to smell like this?") and, after time, came to a similar conclusion.
Posted by: Tania | July 11, 2005 at 06:19 PM
I must admit that Cacharel fragrances have always attracted and repulsed me. At the Cacharel they have the very useful ability to churn out market best sellers (except for Gloria, I guess) which dark talent spoils most of their scents for me. I started wearing LouLou many years after they peaked their sales. Actually I started wearing it when it was being withdrawn from the market. The part I like most in Loulou is the strange, dust-like drydown. Not powdery, just dry dust that hangs in the air of the wearer's room. I love every part of their ads and packaging. Maybe
one day I will start using Noa original. It is still to early for it now.
Posted by: macassar | July 13, 2005 at 11:58 AM
I have to admit that understanding Eden was a challenge for me cause it is not a easy perfume. Even though I do not like it I have a great respect for its creator. In the same time I think it was in some way "too modern" for its time but offered lots of possibilities to a new kind of family - the transparent / wet / humide Oriental. I had the same problem when I first smell Angel or Tocade - notes we were not used to smell in perfumes. One thing is sure - it has something rare today - a fingertip (like tresor). You can instantlly recognise it and remember it. I wonder what's the secret behind.... :)))
Posted by: Octavian | July 14, 2005 at 05:50 PM
Opus 1870 (Penhaligons)
Well, it didn’t take long for my wish to come true. Today I obtained a preview bottle of Penhaligon’s latest, Opus 1870 (number inflation threatens: 36 more than Lutens), sprayed it on my arm and….Shazam ! Eau Bleue with manners ! Now this is either a) composed by Cavallier after sunrise b) an astonishing example of synchronicity or c) a not-so-astonishing example of analytical chemistry. In any event, it’s got what I wanted: more bread, less chemical herbs, delivery on all the promises of Feu d’Issey. This is a fragrance that will go well with the view from a window on a Greek island hillside: blue sea, blue sky, white stone. _Available in September
July 11, 2005 | Permalink
COMMENTS
I must admit that I am a 'traditional' Penhaligon's fan. I love Hammam Bouquet, English Fern and Blenheim Bouquet. I disike the new scents that they have produced since the American takeover. I feel that they are departing rapidly from
their 'roots' to keep the American market happy.
From your review Luca, I get the impression that they have moved away totally from what they once were..a traditional British perfumer. Come back Sheila Pickles, all is forgiven.
Barry
Posted by: Prince Barry | July 11, 2005 at 05:50 PM
Can I send you a few of my fragrance wishes and see if you can Shazam them to life?
Posted by: Robin | July 11, 2005 at 08:29 PM
Post them here, and we'll experiment with the power of silent prayer :-)
Posted by: luca turin | July 11, 2005 at 08:35 PM :D LOL!
Well, I've been praying for a Tabu extrait, an Eau d'Hadrien and Calandre that lasts longer than 5 mins on me.(or maybe what i truly need is a more sensitive nose?!) :P
Posted by: kaylagee | July 11, 2005 at 11:49 PM
Well I'll join the communal letter to Santa then: Something that smells of woodsmoke, iris and leather would be nice.
Posted by: MC | July 12, 2005 at 09:14 AM You're in luck: Chanel's Cuir de Russie !
Posted by: luca turin | July 12, 2005 at 10:11 AM As if by magic!
parfum: Perhaps it is brisker, icier. Divine's l'Homme du Coeur was very impressive too.
Posted by: MC | July 12, 2005 at 10:45 AM
I agree with you, Prince Barry: everything changed after Sheila Pickles sold Penhaligon's.
I used to work in the basement of the then unique boutique in Wellington Street. I was a lowly dispensary assistant at the time when Shirley Brody was one of the two perfume blenders. She left to found Czech & Speake a few months later.
Sheila Pickles was not a perfumer (she used to be a PA in the film industry), but she knew about "tradition". We used to do everything by hand: filling bottles, sticking labels, decorating bottles with ribbons.
It all went downhill after she left. :-(
Posted by: Bela | July 13, 2005 at 07:09 PM Thank you Bela!
Those were the days when I used to buy my Hammam Bouquet at the Wellington Street perfumery. Late 70s to early 80s I think.
My most favourite scent from that time was a 1oz bottle of Hammam Bouquet Extract. Alas I went through it rather quickly._All the recipts were hand written. Such class and unsurpassed customer service.
Barry
Posted by: Prince Barry | July 13, 2005 at 08:57 PM
Hi Luca, I was terribly envious when I saw that Lucky Robin got you to conjure her fragrance out of thin air -- how about this -- saffron orange blossom tobacco?