Profumo Acqua di Parma 1930

2000 EDP

When we tread somewhere with angels at our side.

In the Summer of 1995 the Galleria degli Uffizi in Florence was undergoing some restoration and a big part of the artworks was not for visitation. One says "oh, no" for who knows when it's going to be, if ever, it the next time in the City of the Medici. Anyway, making the most of it there I went following the pre organized way to the gallery. I came to a point in which I had to open a door. It was dark on the other side. I took some time to adjust my eyes to the dim light and then saw a guard at the other end of the room, a small bench near the centre and, covering almost the whole wall, magnificent in inderect light, in air conditioned temperature, Sandro Botticelli's The Birth of Venus. Not knowing the real actual size of the painting, I was completely taken by surprse, a very good surprise. There was the bench. I could sit and admire, for as long as I liked. There were few Japanese tourists in those days, in the 90's.

Well, that's the feeling of smelling Profumo for the first time. I mean the 2000 Profumo, EDP, in the burgandy hard box. Although the Acqua di Parma scent is very close to Guerlain Mitsouko, the notes presented here must be just the heart ones, or any other good chypre, one thing makes it apart from the others, even from my beloved Miss M. Profumo is dense, thick and full body like an aged and refined ruby port. It feels heavy, but it'snot its own fault, we are too used to watery transparent scents of our times. Also, Profumo makes me have a glimpsy of what the old classics, like Mitsouko, smelt like then, when they were all like young vampires. Profumo is buttery, and as such one feels it could be cut in slices, to be spread onto the skin instead of spraying it. It is like seeing face to face, a painting you saw so many times in books and magazines, in films, just to realise it is much more than whatever you had dreamed before. Profumo brings voices from the past to deaf ears of the present. It takes a lot of sensitiveness to appreciate Beauty, as Italians are able to do so well.

Although I think they belong to the same genre, and therefore smell alike, Mitsouko and AdP Profumo stand on their own feet. I love both. And I am a man.

Beautiful, beautiful fragrance, a classic chypre. Reminiscent of "The Party in Manhattan" and (especially in the top notes, which are very peachy) of Mitsouko. Very harmonious, well-balanced. The old-fashioned bulb-atomizer looks beautiful and it rests in a gorgeous satin box - a true de-luxe presentation. "Profumo" is the quintessence of luxury epitomized in a fragrance. It's 100% "good taste" to me, it doesn't make too much noise, but delicately reinforces your own radiance. You could also call this perfume "balanced beauty in a bottle". An Italian masterpiece.

Acqua di Parma PROFUMO 2009 (the relaunch of the 1930 perfume) is incredibly gorgeous. A luscious floral chypre with swirling petals and a woody patchouli-labdanum base. I actually feel as though I am wearing gold it's so luxurious. In that respect, I'd agree with one reviewer's comparison to Hermès 24 FAUBOURG. Both perfumes are extremely elegant and, for lack of a better word, rich smelling: 24 karat gold!

However, they are very distinct. PROFUMO is not quite as bodaciously floral as 24 FAUBOURG, although the sillage is still rather grand. In some ways, PROFUMO reminds me a bit of (unreformulated) La Perla LA PERLA and La Praire Life Threads PLATINUM, but I feel that PROFUMO uses even better quality components than those two floral chypres, both of which, I should clarify, are beloved to me.

The flowers here are not all or even primarily white. The ylang and the peony mingle alongside rose and jasmine. I find the rose to be dominant, but this is not a rose perfume, per se. The patchouli and labdanum pull everything together in a splendid way. I don't know what else to say except that this is beautiful and I'd love to have a bottle!

I have found all of the floral perfumes of this house to be extremely well made, and I actually prefer them to the COLONIA series.

This is a beautiful Woody Chypre opens
with an warm and deep raisin note of Labdanum dries to an powdery nuances of
green notes and Bulgarian Rose. to my senses i don't notice any peony in this
scent but i do notice is the elusive note
of Ylang ylang with it's deep earthy smell. But i love the drydown most most of all with the dryness of sandalwood
plays nicely with the grounded patchouli
and i can dectect the note of Civet
makes it a little primal.

The gold painted glass on this bottle is
art deco chic and sexiness the icon
of High Class.

First of all: the good old “Profumo” is no more. Contrary to popular belief, the new fragrance of the same name from Acqua di Parma has almost nothing in common with the old one from 1930, aside from the beautiful Art Deco bottle that “Profumo” has always been housed in. It just didn’t have a pump spray back then and wasn’t resting in an ivory-colored square box, but rather in a burgundy one.

Launched in 2008, the new “Profumo” is a fruity-floral oriental (with subtle chypre facets), which the perfumer Nathalie Lorson has masterfully staged - it deserves its own review, as this complete new creation certainly has its merits.
However, I want to focus here on the original fragrance, not only because it is my own, but also because I consider it to be a very special and, above all, exceptionally good scent. Therefore, I deeply regret that Acqua di Parma decided a few years ago to stop producing this fragrance and instead develop a completely new scent - it wasn’t necessary. The old one was so good, and the new one is hardly worse, that a coexistence would have been justified. However, I suspect that the real reason for discontinuing the original lies mainly in the extensive regulatory requirements from IFRA. Not only was the essential oak moss for chypre fragrances incriminated, as is widely known, but also certain citrus compounds, some rose oil, jasmine, Peru balsam, and even lavender and much more.
The old “Profumo” had plenty of all that and much more: it was said to contain over 300 ingredients, at least that was the tale for decades.
Presumably, the original formula also included one or two ingredients that are either hardly available today or, if they are, incredibly expensive. Some ingredients may have been replaced as early as the beginning of the 70s, such as certain nitro musk compounds, without which hardly any fragrance could get by. In the early 90s, the percentage use of oak moss was already limited, then further reduced around the turn of the millennium, only to be essentially banned a few years later.

Tough times for the great old chypres like “Mitsouko,” “Femme” by Rochas, “Miss Dior,” “Pour Monsieur” by Chanel, “Parure,” and indeed also “Profumo.” Some fragrances survived the deep intervention, while others unfortunately did not. Those that survived were unrecognizable for years, and only today, several years later, after satisfactory synthetic substitutes have been developed, can we slowly speak of a return to a somewhat original state.
Perhaps the day will come when Guerlain decides to revive “Parure” and maybe even “Djedi”; however, “Profumo” will likely remain lost - another fragrance has taken its place, while “Parure” and “Djedi” left voids behind.
But I will not give up hope that Acqua di Parma will one day decide to bring the classic back to life, perhaps with the label “Profumo vintage” or “Profumo 1930,” or whatever.

But what was the old “Profumo” like?
It was, as already mentioned, a chypre fragrance - and what a chypre it was! Fruity, bitter, smoky, floral, resinous, balsamic, mossy. If one were to choose a color that matched the fragrance, the dark red of the packaging would be quite appropriate. This fragrance was a robe, a heavy dark robe. Modern transparency and veil-like lightness were foreign to it. Instead: opulence and volume, along with a strangely melancholic underlying mood. No, this fragrance had nothing shimmering, floating, nothing cheerful and carefree; it was serious and measured, earth-heavy and yet calm. Above all: overwhelming!
There has probably never been a darker chypre, perhaps aside from the original Coty fragrance. But the actual reference point is Guerlain's epochal “Mitsouko.” “Profumo” is clearly recognizable - or rather, detectable as a direct descendant of Jacques Guerlain's fragrance, without wanting to be a copy of it. Its uniqueness lies in strong, smoky accents and a fruitiness that is much fleshier, much juicier than that of “Mitsouko.” Here, the fragrance moves quite a bit towards Edmond Roudnitska's “Femme” by Rochas, a fragrance that would follow it fourteen years later.
Between these two masterpieces of perfumery stood “Profumo,” as the darkest and smokiest, but also the most melancholic of the three. It has never achieved comparable fame. Why, I do not know, but I suspect it could be due to the already described melancholic mood of the fragrance, but surely also to an incredibly poor marketing strategy: the whole world knew and knows the famous “Colonia” from Acqua di Parma, but who, please, has known “Profumo” over all these years? Probably hardly anyone except a few fragrance enthusiasts. It was neither advertised nor was it available anywhere. If a perfumery actually had a “Profumo” in stock, there was usually no tester available, and who likes to buy a pig in a poke?

That I discovered “Profumo” nonetheless is thanks to a brave and knowledgeable saleswoman, who once disappeared into the ladies' department with the words: “Just a moment, I'll quickly get something...” and then triumphantly sprayed something on my arm. “So, how do you like it?” she asked, and I could only respond to her question with a “Wow!” Finally, she told me that she had always believed this fragrance developed particularly well on men's skin - and she was right: it develops wonderfully on my skin. However, I am also a chypre type. On a friend of mine, it revealed its floral heart much more clearly; on me, it remained dark, smoky, and mossy. She, my friend, found it old-fashioned, but only on herself, not on me.

Perhaps this is also another reason for its demise (a misunderstanding if you will): as a women's fragrance, it is definitely a bit old-fashioned (but aren’t “Arpège,” “No 5,” and “Joy” also old-fashioned?), while as a men's fragrance it is not recognized or was never considered. I am sure that if “Profumo” were launched today as a men's fragrance (there is indeed one that bears a certain resemblance: “Lonach” by Castle Forbes), it might not find a large following; it is just a bit too complex, too voluminous, and heavy for today’s needs, but surely a small and dedicated one. Above all, the women who could wear it might be more open and curious again, as they are generally much more receptive to new releases in the men’s segment than vice versa.
Until that hopefully not too distant day (but, as I said: the new “Profumo” is so good that the old one will have a hard time recommending itself for a revival), I will cherish my beautiful and still somewhat full bottle, occasionally applying a few drops on special occasions, fully aware of its past, special beauty and greatness.