Regular readers will know that I’m not a vintage fiend. Yes, I’m always interested in sniffing the contents of some bottle that someone has had stashed away at the bottom of a drawer for forty years. But I don’t subscribe to the view that modern perfumery is terrible and that the only way to find olfactory greatness is by turning to the past. Having said that, there is no doubt that there’s a very particular pleasure in smelling an old formulation of a favourite, which is why I was especially excited when the festive season treated me to not one, but two iterations of a bona fide modern classic: Dior Dune. Needless to say, I featured them both in a recent video: Dior Dune vintage esprit de parfum and parfum reviews.
What more is there to say about this preternaturally haunting beauty? Much has already been made of its status as one of the most melancholy compositions ever poured into a bottle, right up there with Guerlain Apres L’Ondee. A lacrimosa in scented form. But perhaps what’s surprising about these vintage editions is a sense of full-bloodedness. Yes, they’re both sorrowful and angst-ridden, but they’re not helpless. They aren’t abject, woe-is-me maidens, weeping in the hope that someone will rescue them from their fate. On the contrary: somewhere, amidst the green-marine-amberiness of these more concentrated versions, lies a sense of power. A certainty that although now may be a time for sadness, it will not last forever. It’s an effect that pulls you through the valley and eventually leads you to a towering peak, from where you’re rewarded with a view of a landscape that is endless, untarnished and hopeful. Perfumery doesn’t get much better than this.
Persolaise
[Dior Dune vintage esprit de parfum and parfum reviews based on samples obtained by me in 2023.]
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