Histoires de Parfums - 1889 Moulin Rouge

I've said it before, the best thing about having perfumes as a hobby is not the many great perfumes you'll get to savour or how good you'll become at recognizing scents. The very best thing is the lovely people you get to meet. A while ago I wrote about how I'd just realised that the mall next to my work had two perfume shops in it. Parfumistan over at Parfumistans blogg commented that she also works near a mall with two perfume shops. And, as Sweden is a very small country, of course it turned out to be the same mall! Since then we've been meeting up for "perfume lunch" once a month, or, as I like to think of it, no-limit perfume nerd fests. And we've been exchanging samples as well. One of the perfumes Parfumistan generously let me try is 1889 Moulin Rouge by Histoires de Parfums. I've had the sample for a while now and been meaning to write about it for some time, but it's a hard scent to write about. I'm a little embarrassed by my perceptions of it, and you'll see why.

Lets start with the name, "1889 Moulin Rouge", a legendary nightclub in Paris, mostly known for it's can-can dancers. How might it have smelled in 1889? Like lots of warm bodies, probably. Some of them wearing the same skimpy scene costumes night after night at a time when hygiene standards probably did not include daily showers or dry cleaning. Is that something you'd want bottled? If you're some kind of Victorian bent pervert, sure, but most us would likely prefer living in ignorance on this one.

The official notes of the perfume tell a different story, though. Top notes are tangerine, prune and cinnamon. Warm, fruity, spicy - Yum! Heart notes are absinthe and rose of Damascus. Liquorice rose, that could be nice. Base notes are iris, patchouli, musk and fur. Sounds good once again. But unfortunately I'm not getting a single one of these notes. What I'm getting out of 1889 Moulin Rouge, is this:

"Strawberry Strings" (=jordgubbssnören)

Strawberry Strings are my sons favourite candy. It's basicly strawberry flavoured liquorice. They are rather nice, I probably wouldn't buy them for myself but I happily gobble down a string or two whenever opportunity is given.

1889 Moulin Rouge starts with leathery strawberry strings. Almost immediatly on applying the scent softens and moves towards a sweeter and fruitier variety of strawberry strings. Toward the end it smells like strawberry strings that have been left out in the air for some time. Some of the aroma has evaporated but they still taste the same, just now a showing off a dustier, more mellow facet of themselves. And those are the notes I'm managing to pin down.

This is a really lame description, which is a pity because 1889 Moulin Rouge is not a lame scent whatsoever. It's just very hard to describe as the notes are all so well integrated it's near impossible to tell them apart. It's a lovely scent, comfy and cheerful and envelops your body in a sweet red-hued shimmer. Although sillage is low, longlivety is great. I've been wearing it for work as it's both encouraging and discreet, and it lasts all day. I've also been wearing it to bed as it's warm and cozy enough to induce happy dreams. Interestingly enough, the only thing it's not made for it's a grand night out, including absinth drinking and watching risqué dance acts - very much in spite of it's name.

Santal de Mysore by Serge Lutens

Go ahead, press the play button on the YouTube clip above. This blog post has a soundtrack.

I've been wearing "Santal de Mysore" for a couple of days now, and the best way to describe it  is like a Bach concerto, firmly built around a central theme that is indefinitely varied but never gets old.

The theme is, of course, sandalwood and the infinite variations are the way the other notes seamlessly intertwine, playing one off the other, managing to render the sandalwood in different lightings again and again. There is "woody sandalwood" flanked by oak chips and wine barrels. There is "spicy sandalwood", flanked by cumin and Indian curry spices. There is "gourmet sandalwood", flanked by liquorice, vanilla and good quality dark chocolate.

The wine barrel note I find especially interesting. My first impression of "Santal de Mysore" was, my god, this smells just like an Australian Chardonnay. They sometimes carry some pretty aggressive oak notes as they are not only aged in oak barrels but some producers have been known to throw in oak chips for that extra little oooomh (nothing you see on bottle labels though, this is a trade secret). As the perfume dries down the wine barrel note goes softer and after a few hours I've caught notes of softly oaked young Cabernet Sauvignon.
It's funny that the oak notes are so prominent for me in "Santal de Mysore", that is not officially supposed to carry oak, but I didn't catch any oak in Chene, that is supposed to be all about oak, just generic wood.

So, how do I feel about this one? It's not a classical "woody" fragrance to me, it's a sweet, dark and seductive fragrance. I find it  pleasant, but I think it will be even better in winter. I'm rating this a 4 out of 5 for now, but I might very well up that at Christmas.

Music: J.S. Bach Double Concerto for 2 violins in D minor, 1st movement. Solemn and a bit stiff arsed at fist listenings but once you start hearing how the two violins sometimes support each others, sometimes tease, a whole new landscape (soundscape?) opens up. Very much like the process I've had with "Mysore de Santal".