Scentzilla!

“Is jasmin, then, the mystical Meru - the centre, the Delphi, the Omphalos of the Floral World? Is it the point of departure - the one unapproachable and indivisible unit of fragrance? Is jasmin the Isis of flowers, with veiled face and covered feet, to be loved of all, yet discovered by none? Beautiful jasmin! If it be so, the rose ought to be dethroned, and the inimitable enthroned queen in her stead. Revolutions and abdications are exciting sports; suppose we create a civil war among the gardens, and crown the jasmin empress and queen of all.”

Charles Dickens in Household Words, 3 July 1857¹

Guerlain’s discontinued Jasmin, introduced in 1928, is a stunning example of what a soliflor can be. You can peruse shelves nowadays and find any numer of waters and toiletries labeled “jasmine,” but most disappoint the flower itself. They smell cheap, thin, and resemble the jasmine blossom about as much as a drag Bugs Bunny resembles a woman: only the naif Fudd is fooled by the ruse.

Jacques Guerlain acknowledged jasmine as delicate and substantial in his ode. Tender green leaves curl open; Fresh wild blooms litter the green spray with budding dots of color. Within seconds the whole composition is transformed into a yellow carpet of fragrance. The aroma bears a distinct creaminess that funnily calls to mind the texture of homemade pudding. (Cait, in her review of it at Legerdenez, aptly referred to a banana-like aroma to it.) Indolic and animalic tones spring gently from this fragrance. These tones smell of skin on skin, though Jasmin doesn’t smell skanky: She’s not a whore. (Or for that matter a wascally twansvestite wabbit.) Guerlain’s Jasmin is like Dickens’ beautiful garden goddess, a mysterious beauty seperated from others.

Alas, I must admit that I become a bit anosmic to parts of the scent quickly, unless I constantly “refresh” my nose. But that is only a word of warning when sniffing, not a warning against hunting the ol’ gal down for yourself. (The eBay seller, Dragonfly Scent Me is selling samples of the EdT, by the way.)

My thanks to March, who’s own take on this Guerlain classic can be read over at Perfume Posse.

¹Source: ‘A Romance of Perfume Lands, or, the Search for Capt. Jacob Cole”, by F.S. Clifford, 1880, p. 218

Images: Top photo taken by and uploaded to Flickr under a Creative Commons license by Laurence Shan. Filmstrip images compiled from the Looney Tunes classic, Rabbit of Seville, with Elmer Fudd’s scalp of red flowers replaced with yellow

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 21st, 2007 at 6:08 pm and is filed under Perfume Reviews, Guerlain. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.