Clandestine Guy Laroche 1986 Eau de Toilette

Clandestine was the clincher that put Guy Laroche in my top five perfume houses once and for all, because, according to my personal taste of course, every fragrance that the house launched until Guy Laroche's death in 1989 was a perfect ten, and has earned a more or less legendary or even cult status over time. I mean, think about it for a while. Fidji, Eau Folle, Drakkar, J'ai Ose, Drakkar Noir and finally Clandestine.
Of course it comes as no surprise that after Monsieur Laroche's departure for perfume heaven, and with the brief flash of Horizon in 1993 (probably due to momentum), good ol' L'Oreal thought it was a good time to start joking.
Drakkar Dynamik, Drakkar Essence, J'ai Ose Baby and J'ai Ose Aqua. I personally didn't laugh at all. I just pray there's not any Fidji Urban Chic or Clandestine So Cute in the making...
And now that the eulogy is over, let's get to the point.
We all know that there's always a good chance for something very interesting and possibly dangerous to be happening behind these huge metal waste containers that are usually found in dimly lit and occasionally wet dark alleys. I mean, come on, we've seen it in a thousand movies, so it's got to be true.
Well, the interesting and surely dangerous thing that is happening behind this particular one that stands before us, is Clandestine. With her trashy but flashy dress raised, her panties lowered, and happily peeing behind it. Moments after she has left one of these thunderous '80s clubs, where she was dancing like crazy all night long.
What's more interesting is that upon getting caught in the act, she doesn't bother to cover herself. Not in the slightest. On the contrary, she looks at you at full defiance, utters "What?" and goes on with her business.
And she goes from Clandestine to in-your-face in an instant. And this instant is enough to make you fall desperately in love with her!
Because the smell of this stupendous and intoxicating aura engulfing her, is speaking of pure, unrestrained woomanhood and it will make you stagger and swoon every single time. For it's not possible to escape this musty, dirty but in the same time sweet and guile attack unscathed. Because you stand the same chances as if you were under full frontal assault (pun intended) by a crazed battalion of civet cats, with Company A ferociously gnawing on (tube)roses and Company B looking to gnaw anything on you that resembles plums. Ferociously as well. With their CO smiling from the shadows of her hiding place...
But don't worry about any connotations between her and the contents of her hiding place being more than concrete. Cause it may be that no matter how hard she tries to sell her lady self, the tramp within her will always show, but who doesn't like this kind of tramps? And who wouldn't be ready to die for her after seeing her audacious poise despite being that exposed? OK, maybe not die, but at least watch over her until she finishes relieving herself. And perhaps follow her obediently afterwards, drawn by the invisible leash that Clandestine has tighten around your neck. For it may be gallant and noble to defend a queen, but it's always the plain rabble girls that will pay you back with everything they've got.
And this one has got it all...

My personal Laroche favourite is Fidji (review is in the making) but I do remember getting Clandestine in the late 80s, because at that time Fidji was my mum’s thing. Clandestine was for me so that I would not go unnoticed. The scent matched the harsh coloured sweater, enormous hair and huge earrings. I wore LouLou, Clandestine, Poison and Ysatis - all loud and recognisable.
I suppose that today Clandestine would be too strong and heavy. It is a true bouquet of lovely flowers - well, actually I see it as a huge decoration on a table at a formal event. Made to impress, not necessarily to please. It is a scent that arrives before the one who wears it. But sometimes I put it on and wear it at home. It is a ride down memory lane to me. It stays on my skin for many hours - lovely!
I am not a huge fan of the bottle, but I really like the box. The blue/black pattern has a true 80s vibe to it.
7/365

Clandestine means business. It packs a punch. Its an iron fist in a velvet glove. Today it would scare innocent noses who have no clue what the BIG 80s classics were.

I have winced when it comes to tuberose since Poison sent it "over the falls". This is a little like Poison that is more wearable. There was so many other to compare it to, yet it hold its own. Its an angular, quirky lady of the night. Its not unisex by any means. As a man wearing it, I feel dominated by its power. It definitely "wears you".

It has so many notes that its impossible to pick it apart. The civet is prominent like so many other 80s offerings. The fruits and honey would make you think of gourmand. Its anything but that. The fruit is bitter and the honey is almost rancid. She's a femme fatale dripping in diamond and fur. Black fishnet veils the entire production.

Its big, decadent, expensive glamour that doesn't exist anymore. I remember seeing the Guy Laroche boutique on the Rue St Honore in Paris in 1987 with this featured inside. I gazed in the window and thought one of these days I have to try it. I guess its better late than never. Time seems to fly...

Watch the Jayne Kennedy Tab soda commercial on YT, do it, it's a hoot.

This is what Clandestine is like to me. Maximum shoulder-pad, angular, neon, stuffed to the gills with opulent, syrupy decadence. A big fat plum, juicy and tart pineapple, a vat of honey, a carnation crack of the whip, drenching fleshy, fecund flowers like tuberose and ylang-ylang. There's an overdose of heliotropin that collides with a civet-amber.

A glassy lollipop of rose hip syrup and patchouli. Very sweet - and
piquant - a 'take it or leave it' scent like Parfum de Peau, its mid eighties contemporary.
Great stuff, it kicks the ass of many modern fru-chouli's but it's probably
too challenging - and too dated - to get much interest these days.