Parle Moi De Parfum Wake Up World, Gallivant Gdansk and Tom Ford – Skin Time June-July 2022

Tom Ford Vert De Fleur, Vert D’Encens &
Fleur De Chine

I haven’t been wearing much perfume lately. Don’t worry, I’ve been doing plenty of perfume testing: covering myself with new releases, in the hope of perhaps reviewing some of them for you. But my personal scent collection hasn’t been calling me much. I wonder if that’s because this summer’s non-perfume-related responsibilities have taken up a great deal more time than they usually do, preventing me from succumbing to the pleasure that my favourite scents always give. Wearing perfume is never a throwaway act for me, and so I suppose it stands to reason that as I’ve grown more tired, I’ve been less and less able or inclined to choose a fragrance to accompany me over the course of what have been some taxing days. I’ve long maintained that it’s far better to wear no scent rather than the wrong scent, and maybe some instinctive part of me has prompted me to follow my own advice. I’m sure the summer will change all this. I’m already looking forward to choosing the fragrances that will form the structure of the next few weeks. And once I get into ‘relaxation mode’, I have no doubt that I will rediscover the joys of my collection of olfactory goodies. Perfume is the friend that never disappoints.

Having said all of the above, I have found myself rather unexpectedly drawn to one corner of my collection: a few Private Blends from Tom Ford*, namely Vert D’Encens (Yann Vasnier, Antoine Maisondieu, Shyamala Maisondieu; 2016), Vert De Fleur (Yann Vasnier; 2016) and Fleur De Chine (Rodrigo Flores-Roux; 2013). I have no idea why they, out of all the many beauties in my stash, have drawn me in more powerfully than anything else. But I haven’t resisted their pull. And I’ve enjoyed getting to know them again.

The two Verts were part of a green quartet that created a fair bit of hype when it arrived, but then seemed to fade away. Perhaps Mr Ford was simply too early with his verdant trend: it’s interesting to consider how the scents would have fared if they’d been released now. Vert De Fleur is an overt homage to Chanel No. 19, but perhaps with slightly sharper claws. The galbanum hisses with startling – and gorgeous – sharpness here, and allows the vetiver less room to do the ‘smoothing out’ that it accomplishes in the Chanel. Not that this is a complaint. Far from it: it allows Ford to mix his unending love of 1970s aesthetics with his almost-equally strong adoration of 80s vibes. Dynasty-era Joan Collins combined with the austere elegance of No. 19. Not a combo you encounter every day, sadly.

Vert D’Encens is arguably more unusual, pushing the greenness of pine-like materials to the edge of the territories where they overlap with incense. It’s a striking piece of work (shades of Serge Lutens Fille En Aiguilles) and seems to speak of a time when the Ford range dared to take more risks. But then, the current state of the world is dissuading everyone from taking any risks. This is ‘green’ as a supernatural force: as strange and borderline-terrifying as a Grimm fairy tale, and yet also as comforting. I don’t wear it enough.

Finally, Fleur De Chine came to us nearly 10 years ago as part of what now seems like a politically dubious set of ‘eastern’ compositions. A deliciously complex contrast between fruity-peachy-plummy notes and the dryness of tea-like, cedar-y woods, it deserved far more love than it received. It’s a terrible cliche to say this, but yes, wearing it does somehow conjure those swooning, slow-motion visuals from In The Mood For Love, with all their heart-breaking angst. What I find fascinating, on a purely personal level, is that I’ve always considered Yann Vasnier’s Plum Japonais to be my favourite from this quartet. But it’s the gentler Fleur De Chine that has proved more seductive during these last few weeks, when one day has blurred into the next and energy levels have been low.

Gallivant Gdansk

Speaking of plum, the material is the star attraction in the new Gallivant Gdańsk*, composed by Julia Rodriguez Pastor. In case you’re wondering, although I know Warsaw fairly well, I don’t know Poland’s most famous port city at all, so in a sense I come to this latest entry in brand founder Nick Steward’s travelogue as ignorant and unprejudiced as most other people. Certainly, plums are a prominent feature of Polish cuisine, and of course Poland is synomouys with Baltic amber, so the decision to make this scent a plummy amber makes sense on a semantic level. But the execution is surprising, taking us into spicy, rosy, tobacco climes that would seem to have more to do with Arabian scent codes. Plus, there isn’t much happening here that we haven’t come across in other ambers. So I find myself a touch perplexed, as though staring at a road sign that’s pointing in all directions without telling me which one I should take.

Parle Moi De Parfum Wake Up World

I’ll end with a few lines on a scent that I may well review in the weeks to come, but which I’d like to mention briefly here, as I think it might bring a smile to many faces. Parle Moi De Parfum Wake Up World* is an unashamed return to Michel Almairac’s own Paloma Picasso Minotaure from 1992, with the very same apple note, and the tarragon, and the florals, and the ambery sweetness, and the optimism of a world that had yet to discover Netscape Navigator and Instagram and Brexit. I wore Minotaure endlessly back in the day, so I suppose this was always going to strike a chord with me. But objectively, I’m not certain how much praise it deserves, as it doesn’t exactly deviate a great deal from Almairac’s thirty year old template.

Do we take its name as an ironic instruction to ‘wake up’ by returning to the past? In which case, do we forgive its lack of originality? I don’t have the answers to these questions yet. But I know I’ve thoroughly enjoyed wearing the scent. And interestingly, I gather that many younger people (by which I mean: those who weren’t around when Minotaure was released) have been equally taken with it. Plus of course, the Minotaure that’s in shops at the moment isn’t the same animal that was around thirty years ago. So I confess I am inclined to give this one the thumbs up. And pack it into my summer suitcase.

Persolaise

* sample provided by the brand
** sample obtained by me

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