Scentzilla!

Givenchy Originally uploaded by lincolnblues

The scent of Givenchy L’Interdit epitomizes the first sunny spring day still ruddy-cheeked from winter’s chill, be it from a cherished vintage bottle or the recent Les Mythiques release. Nature arrives at its vernal appointment, and soon you can smell the daffodils laughing at your mittens and damp woolen layers.

2007’s reissued version, while marginally paler, nevertheless represents an acceptably nice and IFRA-pleasing recreation of the original. (As opposed to the 2002 reformulation, which I won’t dwell upon, since it’s been forever since I had a whiff, and by all reports is a much sweeter thing having just a name in common with the 1957 creation.)

The original exhibits a little more depth (a depth partially due, I believe, to an indolic note I quickly become anosmic to, drat.) It also benefits from a spicy little dance number (I sense clove, which likely is its carnation note in hiding, and balsamic resin, so perhaps there’s labdanum?) that breaks out under the canopy of white florals and over the base. Included in those bottom notes are sandalwood and polycyclic musks. The vintage juice sports a fleeting strawberry note. This “strawberry” reminds me less of its namesake than it strikes me as simply being strawberry-like. You could call it a “lemonade stand in a patch of bloomin’ strawberries” note, if, you know, you’re not into the whole brevity thing.*

Both vintage and 2007 versions draw inspiration from the same bouquet of rose, lily of the valley, and jasmine to create the heart notes. That’s admittedly not a particularly novel mix of flowers; the charm of L’Interdit lies in the wonderfully diffusive aura of its particular arrangement. In addition to a shared heart, both versions show bergamot peppering the first phase of wear, and each intimate a peach-like (or, if you’re not it the whole brevity thing - “peach gummi candies dipped in milk and nail polish remover”) tone in the middle. Some changes have occured in the end ingredients, but I find the ease with which the base slips into view has remained the same. It’s still softly wooded and powdered by musk.

The complete olfactory texture of L’Interdit feels like satin bed sheets smoothed of any folds or wrinkles. You can practically slide your way down this scent.

Although aptly compared to Chanel No. 5 sometimes, the contrast between the two tends to stick out just as much as their similarities. The floral-fruity threads in L’lnstant’s formula remain tightly weaved, whereas with No. 5 you can’t help but to notice the raised weft made by those big mathemagical aldehydes. L’Instant hints at a sapling’s tender green sprigs; You suspect that within No. 5 lurks a treehouse filled with raccoons on the lam from Animal Control. Dolloping excess into every shimmering droplet fueled No. 5’s creation. Funneling that beautiful legacy into a child of Tuesday renders L’Interdit graceful, and much more restrained. So, the comparison to No. 5 works only as a filial one - mother to daughter - rather than one between peers. L’Interdit is no wild child.

This fragrance has been famously mythologized as Hubert de Givenchy’s ode to the young Audrey Hepburn. A gamine may be in ther own springtime, but sadly that spring happens only once. Behind this myth is the reality that an astute perfumer, Fabrice Fabron, condensed the somewhat elusive concept of her fey elegance into an anniversary of more earthly transitions. The “forbidden” quality impressed upon us in the fragrance’s name is a lie. Spring may be unavailable to us for three-quarters of the year but we are always asssured of it eventually.

*I finally rewatched The Big Lebowski after, like, ten years. It’s much funnier and more coherent than I remembered it being, but out of the Coen brother’s films, I still prefer their love letter to Buster Keaton, Raising Arizona. And The Hudsucker Proxy, too, if only for that idiotically fantastic moment when Tim Robbins’ character reveals a sketch of his invention.