Iris Bleu Gris Maître Parfumeur et Gantier 1988

Rarely, but more often than one might think, a fragrance gains from a reformulation made for whatever reason.
This is the case with “Iris Bleu Gris.”
Sure, the scent was already quite successful before (in the 90ml bottles): earthy, buttery, and floral at its heart, firmly standing in the tradition of Iris Pallida, with a strong, masculine base that reminded one of the great leather chypres of the late 70s and early 80s - Jean François Laporte knew his craft. But “Iris Bleu Gris” was also rather large in scale, quite voluminous, and comparatively loud.
The current version, on the other hand, is much more moderate, as if the mixing console had been adjusted to set all the tracks, both bass and treble, into new, more palatable relations for today’s needs.

The result is astonishing: The same song clearly plays, only quieter, less booming, with subdued basses and brighter highs. But anyone thinking that the result is likely to be shorter-lived is mistaken. “Iris Bleu Gris” is still a marathon runner in terms of longevity, just more discreet in its presence, revealing a sophistication that I hadn’t perceived before.

The current edition of the fragrance begins with a much fresher opening, characterized by citrus and grassy notes. However, beneath this, the powerful iris root accord soon unfolds with its buttery-earthy (the root: “Gris”), but also floral (the flower: “Bleu”) nuances, which bear certain similarities to the scent of violets, combined with the grassy-green moments of the violet leaf. The typical powderiness found in many iris fragrances is hardly detectable, which may certainly irritate some who appreciate these scents for that very reason.
But the concept of this work was likely to create a fragrance around the dark, sometimes almost woody aspects of the iris root to highlight its masculine side. If one had wanted to emphasize the powderiness, surely heliotropin, reminiscent of vanilla and almonds, would have been used, which would have quickly brought the fragrance closer to classics like Guerlain’s “Après l´ondée” or “Mouchoir de Monsieur” - scents that are over 80 years old and were anything but modern at the time of “Iris Bleu Gris” (twenty years later, “Dior Homme” revisited the powdery iris theme and was able to position it as a supposedly “brand new” novelty, which it really wasn’t).

“Iris Bleu Gris” is now a child of its time, and back then, they liked to experiment with leathery chypre bases, which often contained a bit of castoreum - an animalistic twist was a must back then, in the exceedingly hedonistic 80s.
Today, of course, all of this seems terribly outdated and old-fashioned, but somehow I feel about “Iris Bleu Gris” like an old acquaintance whom I haven’t seen in a long time and, deep down, didn’t really want to see - familiar faces can sometimes remind one too much of repressed excesses... But now, standing before him, I am unexpectedly joyfully surprised and amazed at how well he has held up, this acquaintance. How familiar he still is, and - in the case of “Iris Bleu Gris” - how delicately he presents himself: No shoulder pads, no overly loud behavior, instead a somewhat aged, elegant contemporary, whose age is quite apparent, yet still appears rejuvenated, slimmer, fitter, somehow more refined than in my own memory.

I feel similarly about today’s “Iris Bleu Gris” (now in 100ml bottles): it still convinces me, and I am indeed unusually glad for the careful reformulation, which was evidently made in respect for the quality of the old Laporte work.

For those seeking a dry, non-powdery iris scent, and who find, for example, “L´Homme de Coeur” too austere, this old Laporte fragrance is recommended. However, one should also be able to tolerate the leathery chypre base of, let’s say, “Van Cleef & Arpels pour Homme,” as it is certainly present, albeit much softer and tamer.

A great fragrance!