Noir Premier - Fleur Universelle 1900 Lalique 2014

Many would at once name the rose, primal queen of the garden; others, lured by nocturnal sweetness, would summon jasmine; yet others, charmed by winter’s lacquered grace, would point to the camellia.
But my heart, in secret inclinations unlike theirs, turns unfailingly to the chrysanthemum.
Born in the mists of the southeastern lands, she journeyed afar and, with a beauty almost unearthly, laid quiet claim to every realm she entered.
Around her, a perfumed haze arises: cardamom and pink pepper drift upon a languid intoxication of rum, as though one had been wrapped in a pashmina of rare fineness, both homely and sumptuous, warding off the chill of evening while whispering of distant courts.
None of these accords raises its voice above the others; with a restraint born of great artistry, they mingle and subdue themselves into a single, downy softness, tinted as though with a carmine glow glimpsed through silk.
Cinnamon and immortelle continue the delectable, ambered warmth, while myrrh, grave and resonant, lends its shadowed depth and gravity.
Thus is the heart of this fragrance rendered: deep, yielding, plush to the touch of the mind.
The spices, though gentle and measured, cannot be overlooked; they speak distinctly, like the petals of an Atsumono chrysanthemum, each one set in ordered ranks, intricately cut, faintly gleaming, steeped in the noblest of hues.
In its rounded fullness, so precise and nearly flawless, that blossom recalls the fragrance’s own scented sphere—steady, even, complete.
Yet to behold the true heart of the chrysanthemum, one must watch in patient attentiveness, waiting as the outermost petals slowly part.
Its inmost core lies hidden beneath countless layers of coloured, satin-smooth folds.
So too with this composition: it entices and cannot be resisted, drawing one closer with each inhalation, each breath revealing another veil withdrawn, until at last its secret radiance surges forth, a sudden brightness welling from within.
Tonka, patchouli, and Lorenox trace, with almost unsettling fidelity, the stem and leaves of this imagined bloom.
They rise firm and steadfast, a deep green made tactile, with a light, velvety wood-grain under the fingers of the mind.
Never do they turn bitter; yet they refuse the fragile, grassy air of less noble growth, standing instead as the strong architecture that upholds such splendour.
From ancient China she first emerged, this chrysanthemum, and in time made all the world her dwelling.
For her myriad colours and forms, for the remedies hidden in her nature, people of many lands have bowed their heads in admiration.
The one enclosed within this perfume is the Atsumono: her tightly curved petals interlock like some venerable puzzle whose secret only time can solve.
She glows in antique gold, each edge traced in terracotta-red, as if the last light of autumn had settled upon her.
One glance at her robs the breast of breath and sets the heart to beating like a ceremonial drum.
No traveler who passes her remains untouched; no eye that once has rested upon such opulence can ever forget it.
Universally desired, silently revered, she is among those very few flowers that reach inward to the same place in every soul, and there, without words, speak.

It's about time. And indeed for a comment. And specifically about this fragrance, which is still completely uncommented and yet so magnificent.
But, and here comes the first big problem, how to comment?! After all, this is the first detailed scent description of this perfume, and the reader wants to receive information.
At first, I thought of something lyrical, perhaps in the style of Ringelnatz,
The high-proof start
Of rum with lots of spins
In a slightly tipsy manner,
To literal circumventions
Of dry objectivity,
To present to the reader,
But I am not immune
To -hic- all these complaints,
That it might not be objective enough or even incomprehensible, since it is ultimately a scent description and we are not in a poetry or literature forum here.
The complaint is therefore upheld, so the rum must just rumble along, which it does quite well at the beginning, that the wearer might even risk being subjected to an alcohol test during a police check.

The next comment idea brought to my mind the East Westphalian couple in their unmistakable dialect; it fit so wonderfully with the high-proof start and the simultaneously very spicy-woody-resinous beginning...
“Mutta, did you have a little schnapps? No, what are you talking about, that's rum!”
“Heeerbert! That's the new perfume from Doris at her perfumery! It has to be like this!”
“But you smell like a whole fir forest with resin in it! I mean, in the forest it's fine, but as a perfume..?!”
“Heeerbeeert, don’t talk about things you know nothing about!”
“Oh mother, then give me a little shot with a schnapps, then you'll smell something better right away!”

But since dialect dialogues are already quite represented here and one doesn’t want to be guilty of plagiarism (politicians already have a patent on that), since there is only one dialect... oh wait, there are really many, just in Germany alone ... and also on Parfumo: I've already read Püttsprache, the Berlin Jeheimrat is already a cornerstone here ...
But whatever, then I will just report on the simultaneously very spicy-resinous-woody scent that reminds one of freshly felled coniferous forests and the associated resin. And something almost fruity plays along as well; if you smell it close to the skin, you might even briefly mistake it for something hesperidic, which reveals itself in projection as pink pepper, but without that tickling sharpness in the nose.
This opening is a blast, truly! You simply have to smell it!!!

And already a small press report from Mr. Olf Aktorisch unfolds as the next comment possibility about a small village on the edge of the Teutoburg Forest, which, to the general horror of the village community, is about to be deforested, as the smell of freshly felled coniferous wood spreads throughout the village and persists, leading to the first petitions against the unnecessary slaughter of the Teutons, as the forest is lovingly called by the indigenous people, being drafted over a spiced tea with cinnamon and spice (hence the name 'spiced tea') cloves.

However, to avoid coming across as too contrived and attention-seeking with this comment variant - dear goodness, one certainly does not want that! - I prefer to describe the further development of the scent with vivid words: still spicy-resinous, the impression of coniferous wood remains, clove is clearly detectable despite its absence in the pyramid, and a fine cinnamon note in the background.

Okay, I admit, this is a bit boring and linguistically rather uninspired. Then I should perhaps present the rest of the description in a factual yet eloquent, informative yet still elaborate, technical yet simultaneously verbally vivid manner. But please - for heaven's sake - don’t recite the pyramid! That would have been the last straw; after all, we can all read that ourselves! Well then, nothing easier than that...

Into the pine resinousness plays a balsamic sweetness, probably due to myrrh; however, patchouli could also be held responsible, as a sweet earthiness can indeed be perceived. The immortelle, which is noted in the pyramid, is also said to have a certain sweetness, but since the earthy, resinous-balsamic impression is strongly in the foreground, it does not seem to be the cause, and if it is, then only acting in the background, namely contributing a certain sweetness. This scent impression indeed lasts for hours, even though after about 3 to 4 hours a certain skin proximity can be attested (at least on my skin). The overall projection or sillage is present but not overwhelming, which is advantageous given the scent direction if this fragrance is to be worn, for example, in the office. The longevity, based on my experience, is a good 8 to 10 hours on the skin, a test of longevity on clothing has not yet been conducted.
Finally, when only a hint is still detectable, a very light woodruff scent can be discerned, which mixes into the balsamic-resinous-spicy.

Better? To be honest: No idea! But what is more than an idea, for me even certainty is:
This scent is special, very special indeed, not artificial at all and completely unisex. One of my absolute autumn favorites! And I really don’t care if my comment conforms to a - if they even exist - comment norm, because what was most important to me was primarily to promote this scent!
And now I am done ;-))

"Noir Premier - Fleur Universelle 1900" lives up to its name. This spicy-dark fragrance conglomerate is suitable for both autumn and winter, and despite its rather universal seasonal applicability in my eyes - summer and spring evenings work too - it feels like a premiere with every wear. It is a premiere because throughout the scent journey, several components, whether alone or combined, celebrate their very own debut - whether lavish, dominant, or particularly attention-grabbing is yet to be determined.

The rum and pepper, as a duo, take the stage first, but they hardly get the chance to introduce themselves separately to the audience. With a quick follow-up appearance, the straw flower emerges, whose scent character resembles that of curry, without evoking associations with Indian cuisine - which is a relief. Gourmand aspects are not catered to here.
At times overshadowing everything else, one of my favorite spice notes joins in. Some of you might know which one it is. It is cinnamon, whose appearance is exactly what I always wish for from it. It is not sweet and syrupy, not sticky, not reminiscent of rice pudding and other diabetes-inducing treats, but rather airy-spicy and adorned with its very own, typical aroma that everyone should be familiar with. In the first half hour, it steals a bit of the show from its stage companions, pushing the subtly "curry-like" straw flower aside and allowing the rum to peek through the curtain only occasionally, which I appreciate. After all, I am a lover of cinnamon, and it can certainly be loud and dominant. I also enjoy the olfactory character of rum, but not in an exaggerated, alcohol-excess-evoking manner. Here, everything fits perfectly, so the audience is presented with a cinnamon spice with a little kick in front of their ... uh ... noses.
Some time later, the tonka bean, preparing for the finale, finds its way onto the stage. Its slightly vanillic face shines through, but it knows how to hold back and fulfill its role. This role must harmonize perfectly with its other stage companions to ensure that no one is scared away. The straw flower does not want to be overshadowed again after it has fought its way back into the action, which could happen with a sticky-sweet tonka bean. Likewise, the cinnamon does not want to end up as Müller rice pudding either. Even though the tonka bean does not want to completely hide its sweetness from everyone, one can kindly note that it plays its role very well. The bit of sweetness is just right, actually even perfect, and the focus is on the powderiness that its appearance brings. In the end, everyone knows how to appreciate all its companions on stage; no performance is diminished in its value, importance, or relevance. The cinnamon had to hold back a bit for this, but the broad audience certainly honors that in the end. The audience benefits from the smooth interplay, which is characterized by so much warmth and harmony, so that by the end of the evening, everyone, both men and women, wants to catch a brief signature from the one who played with the audience's senses on that stage.

It opens explosively spicy with zesty, almost fruity pepper. Hello, what a beautiful start, really great! The rum disappears quickly, the scent is not boozy. Lucky me. The straw flower expresses itself as a dry warmth, not as curry powder, which is good, and connects in a slightly bitter way with something else. That is very good. Then it becomes somewhat balsamic-resinous but not sweet. No complaints there. Unfortunately, the cinnamon then holds the entire beautiful perfume hostage for a while. That’s not good anymore (for me). But still OK. The perfume frees itself, which is optimistic. Finally, Lorenox takes the stage. At least I assume so, as I have no idea how this substance smells on its own. However, it seems to be an amber wood from the piercing and long-lasting pseudo-cedar faction. That really gets on my nerves. To comfort myself (quite successfully), it gets gently powdered. There’s something for everyone. Thus, the scent lingers for what feels like five and a half weeks, and does absolutely nothing anymore, not even being nice. And goodbye.

PS: Lorenox (TM) is an aroma chemical from the company Mane. It allegedly has woody, amber-like, and leathery facets. It is a proprietary substance, and only Mane perfumers are allowed to use it. (Source: The Scented Salamander, May 2010) This is confirmed by a sample of about a dozen perfumes containing this ingredient on Parfumo.

This fragrance flies so under the radar that it hits you unexpectedly.

I don't know why so few people talk about this scent; Lalique already makes very fine, balanced fragrances, but this one, from the presentation to the scent, is top-notch. I have rarely smelled strawflower, and this one unlocks a new facet for me!!
Rum + cinnamon + cardamom are like the three musketeers; they always work and fit in anywhere, but flanked by pink pepper and patchouli, it’s a sensory enlightenment... every time I wear it through the nights, it feels like a knight in evening attire, and everyone in the room knows how to appreciate the aura. This fragrance has sealed many evenings!!!