Review: Jardin Du Poete from Eau d’Italie and Bang Bang from Marc Jacobs (2011)

The pixies and elves of Marketing Land would have us believe that Bang Bang is for “men who strive for perfection”. I could understand if they’d said ‘repetition’, ‘alliteration’ or ‘exaggeration’, but ‘perfection’… hardly. They’d also like us to accept that this is a fresher, lighter version of last year’s Bang, to which my response would be that they need to unglue themselves from their focus group stats once in a while and actually smell some of the stuff they’re pushing. The truth is that Yann Vasnier’s Bang Bang is more substantial, weightier and more enjoyable than last year’s offering, but it’s also somewhat derivative. The pepper opening is intact, but it’s been laced with a lactonic, woody, cardamom heart that instantly calls to mind the superior Jungle Pour Homme from Kenzo. It’s harmless, cologne-like stuff and I must admit I hope it becomes sufficiently profitable to warrant the creation of another flanker next year, just so I can see whether the pixies and elves decide to call it Bang Bang Bang or come up with some other ingenious use of the word. The mind boggles.

If you’re after light and fresh, I’d recommend Bertrand Duchaufour’s latest creation for Eau d’Italie, the aptly named Jardin Du Poete. It doesn’t display the larger-than-life personality of his most beloved work – presumably because he was obliged to meet the terms of his clients’ brief – but it’s unmistakably the work of someone with an innate appreciation of perfume’s story-conjuring potential. Granted, such associations are prompted by the fragrance’s name, but Jardin does genuinely evoke the sensation of lying in a hammock in a quiet garden on a day when there’s a gentle breeze blowing in from the sea. In other words, there’s a pronounced salty-marine note – supported by a judicious blend of musks – beneath a green, fruity, floral heart where one occasionally catches hints of rose, lily of the valley, mango and lime zest. I’d say its closest cousin is Lauder’s Beyond Paradise For Men, but whereas Calice Becker’s formulation is intent on providing a static, infinity-pool-like image of a pristine coastal vista, Duchaufour is quite happy for his garden to move and sway with the wind, occasionally revealing subtle facets as the hours progress. Those who wish to spend time seeking perfection can stick with Bang Bang; I’m off to the hammock.

And finally… I can’t resist asking this: if we are treated to a third version of Bang, what do you think it should be called?

Persolaise.