Elixir des Merveilles Hermès 2006

O mama.
Here is a scent for the bold and the cozy all in one.
Never encountered a scent so contradictionary nor excentric.

Elixer des Merveilles feels like wearing lots of diamonds on the beach, having strawberries and chocolat for dinner and wearing a tuxedo while shopping late at night in a supermarket.

I love it, but it took some time to grow on me:
Rebellious and Chique!

Elixir des Merveilles is an almost, almost, not-quite. How fun that Hermès, with its emphasis on luxury, taste and class distinction, the first step to which is clear identifiability to those who desire them, would make such a neither/nor fragrance. Orange peel, but not edible (almost gourmand.) Chewy, resinous woodiness (almost oriental.) A tonka basenote that takes the edge off the sweetness (not quite fougère.)

There is a density, a viscosity that suggests something highly caloric, but I think is more of an illusion of orange over a dense peru balsam, incense and a cedar-like sandlewood. (Assumedly Australian sandlewood. If so, a wonderful use of what has been consdered the poor cousin to the depleted mysore sandlewood.)

The risk is that Elixir might read as indistinct. The upshot is that it suggests an ambiguity that can be very alluring, and as most men tend to steer clear of ambiguity in fragrance, perhaps Elixir would make a great men's fragrance.

Hermès Elixir des Merveilles manages to roll together the best qualities of amber and gourmand perfumes into one scrumptious creation. The amber is golden, shimmering and viscous, while the orange facet is sweet and somehow resinous. The vast majority of fragrances boasting orange as a note wind up as citrus colognes, and many amber perfumes smell alike in the drydown. Not Elixir des Merveilles, which manages to roll amber and orange together into a unique and compelling perfume.

This extraordinary creation, like everything Hermès makes, exudes quality, and this perfume in particular verily oozes sensuality. Vanilla sugar and patchouli may sound like you're in for yet another instantiation of a trite and overdone fad, but in this composition they are perfectly measured and balanced by balsam, incense, oak, and cedar, with the result that the final perfume product is essentially a seamless piece of satin effortlessly piled upon itself both to reflect light and to create shadows.

A gorgeous perfume and a great pleasure to wear.

God, Elixir des Merveilles is such a weird perfume. The first time I tried it, I remember thinking – this right here is why people hate perfume. It was overly rich, sweet, muddy, with all the elements jumbled together in that overdone blur that defines 'Rich Bitch' perfumes to me. The second time I tried it, I thought that I should learn how to read labels better - because I'd been aiming for the Ambre bottle.

Third time round, something clicked for me and I began to like it. Now I have odd, sudden cravings for it. I think it's because I was finally able to figure out its structure. There are two sides to Elixir des Merveilles - the syrupy orange peels dipped in dark chocolate and sprinkled with sea salt on one side, and on the other, a massively butch clutch of resins and moss. It's basically a super-gourmand grafted onto a super hairy-balled aftershave.

Both sides are as oversized as clown shoes. The oranges dipped in caramel and chocolate are sweet to the point of being grotesque. One minute you think it's gorgeous, the next you think, Christ, this stuff is absolutely gross. The sprinkling of what feels like celery salt over the treacly mass is probably one step too far. I swing between feeling repulsed to wanting more. The countermanding element is rather chypre-like: a brusque, musky cedar, smoky balsams and resins, moss. It's really quite dry, bitter, and smoky.

The exaggerated forms of the two parts give the perfume a cartoonish Jessica Rabbit shape. It's like watching an overloaded plane trying to take off or Kim Kardashian walk across the road in a tight skirt. You half fear it's going to topple over any minute. But somehow the whole thing seems to hang together and work quite well. It's a great winter gourmand, and the oranges and resins make me think of Christmas and oddly, Theorema.

Just don't put this on if you're not in the right mood for it, because it sticks like glue and seems to grow grander by the minute. At times, I find it enveloping and rich - just right for a cold winter's day. But at other times, it begins to wear me down. When my hand glides over the small bottle of it that I bought, I have to think twice before putting it on.

Wonderful sweet perfume, highest quality with exquisite bottle. The packaging is to die for. This is my first perfume from Hermes and I was happily surprised with this unique smell. I tried this under an enormous heat while at summer holidays and the perfume never turned bitter while the aroma followed me all day long. I am sure Hermes has a lot of fans with such creations. The smell is like orange peals covered in sugar and dipped in brandy. Super perfume indeed !!!!!