Givrine E. Coudray 2004

Ah, the French: “crêpe-like ribbed fabric for women's coats” is what Givrine stands for with them! Not just any ribbed fabric (who still knows what that is today, except for fashion and perfume enthusiasts;), no, a crêpe-like one. Crêpe de Chine comes to mind. There’s more than just Crêpe Suzette. And then, exclusively women's coats are made from it, no skirts, no dresses, and certainly no pants. Ultimately, it’s a coined term, derived from givre “frost”. So. Now you know. After this research, expectations were high when I sprayed this fragrance.
A spontaneous, distant memory of Annick Goutal's “Eau de Charlotte” comes to mind, even though there are no similarities in the fragrance pyramid except for the lily of the valley in the heart note. However, I only find the lily of the valley on paper. A delicate, slightly sweet clean scent with metallic undertones; this is how “Givrine” presents itself to me with the first sprays on my wrist. Nothing green, rather synthetic and rubbery. Apart, absolutely apart. A chalk-white women's coat made of crêpe-like ribbed fabric with tone-on-tone rubber applications, so to speak.

The often-cited creaminess is also noticeable to me, before the fragrance completely disappears after just two hours. What is this - do I have a presenile nasal defect? My last fragrance observations were also characterized by extreme volatility. Do the noble houses tend to top the general niche hype with the low durability of their products in terms of sales? “Givrine” is an old fragrance, but I wonder if the original scent was not more lasting. Anyway, the image that persistently unfolds before me at the sound of the name “Givrine” is strangely not French at all, but it is the view of a US metropolis by one of the great lakes.