George Carine Roitfeld 2019

Just the scent alone has kept me from smoking weed.
Whereas in the past only one or another shared flat was clouded by cannabis fumes, and some terribly left-wing Antifa establishment, today this sweet-grassy odor wafts at you from every second bush. It’s astonishing how many young people (young men, mostly still unsevered from their gaming consoles) smoke weed today.
However, these now omnipresent weed clouds have not softened my stance; on the contrary - I like them less than ever.
So why can I still get excited about “George”?
Good question.

Cannabis is definitely in the pyramid.
When I spray “George,” I actually have a millisecond feeling that I might have caught a whiff of that damned stoner aroma, but no, it’s actually an illusion, a kind of ‘self-fulfilling prophecy’: surely a cloud of smoke is coming my way, and bam, I think I’ve spotted it already. A chimera, thankfully!
“George” is not a stoner at all, but he does grow hemp. Not on a large scale, but there are a few plants. Maybe he used to smoke weed, that could be, but his wild years in London’s punk scene are long gone.
Why does he still grow hemp?

Well, I don’t really want to know the details. Maybe he dries it to give it away later, or maybe he just likes its smell. Contrary to expectations, I must admit: I like it too, the smell.
I realized this a few years ago when I tested a new fragrance from a brand I greatly admire: “Junky,” by Jardins d’Écrivains. I was skeptical at first when I read that the scent was inspired by William S. Burroughs and that this inspiration inevitably birthed the note of hemp. But the fragrance smelled damn good, and the hemp gave it a fresh green-grassy aura that had nothing to do with the dull, sweet exhalation of a smoldering joint.
Really not?

Well, maybe in some way. Presumably, these fresh, subtly aromatic, almost minty facets acquire a hay-like, sweet undertone through drying or resinification, which leads to that well-known olfactory nuisance when burned.
Fortunately, the hemp in “Junky” is still in full swing, and so it is with “George.”

“George” smells incredibly fresh and bright green, bursting with Galbanum bitterness, moist violet-leathery, and brittle hemp-grassy.
Yann Vasnier has perfectly harmonized this trio. It sets off an almost euphoric, jubilant opening. What follows is a noticeable effort towards calming down. The radiant green is enveloped by a classic chypre structure, at the center of which a floral bouquet gives depth to the fragrance, expanding it. It becomes increasingly broader, more voluminous, but also more complex. The contrasting interplay of flowers, stems, stalks, and leaves is virtuously staged - Yann Vasnier is truly a master of his craft!
The successful blend finds grounding on a substantial, not overly dark base of bitter-tinted oakmoss (probably Evernyl or similar, as no Evernia, neither furfuracea nor prunastri, is listed as an allergen), warm woody patchouli, and a hint of animalic-leathery castoreum, which only really makes its presence known the next day when you can still sniff the lovely remnants of the long-lasting fragrance.
In terms of longevity and projection, I find “George,” like all seven Lovers, absolutely flawless: persistent and with confident standing, yet without a fashionable tendency towards SUV-like ostentation. The proportions are classically French, comparable to the old Guerlains or Carons.

Yann Vasnier has created, with this fragrance, what I consider to be an exceedingly beautiful neo-classical green unisex leather chypre with a slight modern twist, situated somewhere between “Cristalle,” “Aliage,” “Grey Flannel,” and the aforementioned “Junky.”
However, “George” is not a potpourri of quotes; rather, the fragrance - at least to me - feels completely autonomous, and despite its richness in contrasts, it flows seamlessly.

Mme. Roitfeld has spent more than 8 years refining her imaginary scent lovers with the three perfumers of her choice (Gaurin, Guichard, Vasnier) - I think you can smell that. Not only in the case of “George,” but also with the other Lovers I have tested so far, the olfactory experience conveys a noticeable care and passion for the material. This speaks not only for the fragrances themselves, their presumably selected raw materials, but for the entire presentation: the simply and elegantly designed gray-green box, the tactile qualities of the heavy bottle (which reminds me of the Halston bottles of the 70s with its curves), the elegant, heavy metal cap, the perfectly misting spray mechanism, and last but not least, a reduced and tastefully designed booklet that briefly introduces each of the Lovers.

She wanted to create something that would endure, Roitfeld reported, that would neither cater to the mainstream nor compromise on wearability in any niche corners, something that would be connected to her life, her story, that would reflect her personality - her 7 Lovers. She clarified in an interview with Papermag that these Lovers were not meant to represent affairs spread across continents, but rather people she admires: Orson Welles, Wong Kar-Wai, Lawrence of Arabia, alias Peter O’Toole. Additionally, familial references flowed in: her Russian heritage on her mother’s side, which is why she named her son Vladimir, an uncle named George, or her early muse Aurélien. Only Sebastian seems to be a purely fictional character, in whom she bundles her love for the most European city in South America, Buenos Aires, and her love for tango.
She also placed great importance on the quality of the fragrances, which explains their long development time: she didn’t want any quick shots; everything should mature slowly. Just as she insisted on her independence, rejecting advances from market leaders L’Oreal, Estée Lauder, and LVMH, as they disagreed with the naming (some too unpronounceable), the bottle design (preferably 7 different ones rather than one for all), and the highly concentrated expensive ingredients (cheaper substitutes in lower potency). Thus, she decided to tackle the project alone, or with a small team, with the help of her son Aurélien and Frederic Pignault from IFF, whom Tom Ford had recommended, as well as Pascal Gaurin, Yann Vasnier, and Aurélien Guichard.

“George,” as Roitfeld puts it, is a combination of the Sex Pistols and the Royal Family, in the form of George VI, or the famous film about him, “The King’s Speech,” which she liked very much. She also loves the name, which sounds wonderful in all languages. If she were to have a second son, he would be named George.

Well, whether ex-punk, faded king, or imagined son - this Lover, who cherishes his love for green chypres, can’t part with his old leather jacket, and for nostalgic reasons pampers a few hemp plants - this Lover can gladly be left to me by Mrs. Roitfeld!