Marlowe Jardins d'Écrivains 2015

The scent of the tuberose is a tricky thing: either you love it or you don't. Hardly any other floral fragrance polarizes as much, and there's no lukewarm 'so-so'. It's either passionate adoration or cold disdain, that's for sure.

I belong to those who love the scent of tuberose, yet find it incredibly overwhelming and can't really wear it. I have tried, though. I wore the fantastic 'Carnal Flower', albeit in small homeopathic doses, but still. Unfortunately, it just didn't work out for us. The scent took over, buried me, and I felt extremely uncomfortable. I also gave 'Cédre' a chance, with a similar result, and 'Tubereuse Criminelle' didn't fare any better, let alone 'Fracas'. I always thought: for heaven's sake, I'm not the bombshell à la Jean Harlow or Mae West that these tuberose-centered fragrances want to make me. No, I'm not, not even 'in drag'!
Still: how wonderfully they smell!!

When the small and much-appreciated fragrance house 'Jardins d’Écrivains' announced their new scent 'Marlowe' a few years ago, I was very pleased that here apparently a fragrance concept was realized that I had been searching for a long time: a tuberose scent that a somewhat masculine man can wear safely without drag queen tendencies.
Strangely, I then somehow lost interest; my fragrance affinity does wane at times...

Anyway, now it's here, albeit with some delay, and it smells absolutely wonderful on my wrist.
However, I must admit that I was initially a bit disappointed because when I first sprayed 'Marlowe', it wasn't quite the scent I expected.
Strangely, it was too quiet for me right from the start.
This is surely because 'Carnal Flower', 'Tubereuse Criminelle', or even 'Fracas' are full-bodied fragrances that don't care about restraint. Right after spraying, they fill the room, and even hours later, scattered floral clouds drift through the air.
Not so with 'Marlowe'. The tuberose, as omnipresent as it is here, doesn't hit the drums so hard and actually allows its companions room to develop.
Initially, these are primarily the fruity, apricot-like aroma of the osmanthus flower, alongside some straw-like, sour-smelling dried flowers, but also the resins of elemi, myrrh, and labdanum. A somewhat soapy quality initially transforms into a beautiful chypre finish with slight leather nuances, so one could almost speak of a leather chypre, a tuberose leather chypre to be precise, because the tuberose is indeed present in every phase of the fragrance development without the scent turning into a kind of tuberose soliflore in the sense of the three previously mentioned fragrances.
The interplay of the osmanthus flower with the tuberose elicits a certain hairspray note from the fragrance, which soon tends towards the soapy thanks to the resins, ultimately calming down in the chypre base while also developing a bit of sweetness. However, not much sweetness, just a little; 'Marlowe' is a rather dry scent.

But what does all this have to do with Christopher Marlowe?
Well, quite a bit, but that's of course just a feeling. Which fragrance would suit such a complex personality as Marlowe's: the playwright and contemporary of Shakespeare, the spy and homosexual, the translator of Ovid and Virgil, who was murdered at just 29 years old?
I think the tuberose fits quite well - the fanfare-like and overwhelming nature of the powerful floral accord somewhat symbolically represents this turbulent life that ended so abruptly at the height of its success. Osmanthus, the dried flowers, and the resins give the fragrance an ancient touch, immersing it in the yellow-red to brown color spectrum of an old painting.

I believe Anaïs Beguine has once again created a wonderful fragrance with 'Marlowe', whose inspiration is quite fitting.
Apart from all the inflated and pretentious luxury nonsense à la Roja Dove & Co., a fantastic series of very, very good fragrances has emerged here that are extremely valuable - and also affordable!
Hats off and thank you, Mme Beguine!

A few more facts: 'Marlowe' has quite good longevity, with moderate projection. As mentioned, the scent doesn't 'shout', as tuberose fragrances often do (which I have come to appreciate!).
Moreover, it is equally suitable for both genders - an 'Eau Mixte' as Anaïs Beguine subtitles her fragrance.