The discussion of a number of ladylike or pretty perfumes on the fragrance blogs lately got me thinking: do I like any perfumes that express my feminine side? (For that matter, do I even have a feminine side?) I try to focus, but only get the Beastie Boys' "Hey ladies" running through my head, which is wildy inappropriate and very typical. I try again. Well, I like
Farnesiana in extrait, which the Caron website describes as "maternal". I love Annick Goutal's
Passion, the only scent from a line of delicate water-colours that actually works on me. Frederic Malle's
Parfum de Thérèse and Mauboussin's
Histoire D'eau Topaz are favourites of mine, but I almost prefer their radiant elegance sprayed on to a tissue or fabric. As for the Chanels I like,
No. 22 is proper in a youthful sort of way, but I think of
Bois Des Iles as a more quietly daring, amused fragrance, perfect for the older or darker girlfriend of a young man with conservative parents. I like some of the Diors, particularly
Diorella, but favour vintage
Dioressence, just from the description of it.
You may be able to guess from the preceeding comments why I generally dislike pretty fragrances. Ladylike perfumes, almost by definition, do not buck convention - they lack the cheeky edge I normally enjoy in a scent, that sense of something being just a little bit intentionally and humorously "off". Have you ever swept past someone and heard them mutter into your sillage, in a suspicious and undecided tone, that something "smells funny"? The only way to wear a scent that causes that kind of reaction is with confidence, bosom prominently displayed and one eyebrow cocked.
Boudoir is the sort of scent bosoms were invented for. Released in 1998, the notes may include:
viburnum, bergamot, marigold, orange blossom, hyacinth, orris, rose, jasmine, narcissus, tobacco flower, cinnamon, coriander, cardamom, nutmeg, amber, vanilla, civet, sandalwood and
patchouli. Oh yes, and a partridge in a pear tree.
It is a big, bilgy fragrance with all the old-fashioned sauciness that is suggested by its name. Jan Moran apparently labels it a "Green" oriental, a category probably corresponding to Michael Edward's "fresh" tone in this case. It is very hard to describe the effect of whatever is floating over top of the fragrance's legendary creaminess, but "fresh" does come closest: there is a certain breath-spray or toothpaste quality to it. This effect is the "offness" I like, and is likely the overtone that turns off all those reviewers who complain about
Boudoir on Make-up Alley. I think it is quite possible that hyacinth could be the contributing factor here, but it is just as possible it is not. I'm fairly certain that the cardamom is in there because there is a moment where it smells very much like an Indian dessert, and as Jeffrey Steingarten has suggested, Indian desserts taste like your grandmother's dressing table: orange and rose water, sweet spices, lemony zip, vanilla, oil, wax, powder, milky lotion and cold cream.
Boudoir is a cosmetics buffet. The whole thing is actually preposterous and that is what I like about it. It smells very "closed" and the different threads (spicy, creamy, sweet, fresh, animal, buttery, bright, etc.) competing could easily be smothering if over-applied. There is something wonderfully nostalgic about the unashamed seduction of
Boudoir; certainly, I think it earns its man-killer status. It is one of the few perfumes my husband can remember the name of, and therefore one of the few perfumes I can forgive for being feminine.
