Body Paint Vilhelm Parfumerie 2020

Body Paint was a phantom for a long time; when I heard a good three years ago that Marc-Antoine Corticchiato had created something new for a brand that hadn't particularly inspired me before (or since), I naturally wanted to try it out: easier said than done, so for about a year I rattled off one 'Vilhelm Parfum' point-of-sale after another, my question about Body Paint was met with astonishment throughout: no, never heard of it, no, I certainly mean Chicago High from the same year (which was also speculated to be possibly. also by Corticchiato), no, there is no such perfume. In a store in Vienna, a printed 'Vilhelm stock & release' list was even pulled out as quasi-official proof: Body Paint doesn't exist... What was going on? A fragrance, although listed on the company's website, completely unknown in the dedicated sales outlets!?

I don't know, just that I was probably not alone, Gentilhomme, it was apparently similar, merci beaucoup for your bottling back then, extremely helpful, I could probably have searched much longer. When I finally had Body Paint in front of me, it quickly became clear that the fragrance was an alien, a foreign body in Vilhelm's spectrum.

The opening, a mixture of solvent, wall paint and pear, mixed with something vegetable-like (sliced green and red peppers here), slightly chlorine-like to boot. The press release mentioned the year 1988, here I think of the first versions of Maître Parfumeur et Gantier's Garrigue and its slight chlorine note, or the contemporary interpretation of it, Pluie Noire (2017). The whole thing is like a ritual, scenic cleansing that gradually makes way for a far more classic, aseptic note, here in the leading role - clove: very clear, almost monolithic, yet without the oriental warmth that often resonates, the still present top notes seem to set limits to the clove here. This is supported by other spices, for me more dried mace flowers than nutmeg per se; and yet, a kind of nutmeg note like the one celebrated extensively in the 80's by Cacharel pour Homme (1981) is not entirely far-fetched. Other references, the clearest perhaps being Comme des Garçons' Guerilla 1 (2008) where the combination of clove & fruit (pear) plus champaca and overall darker spices could shine. Body Paint remains more transparent, finer, even more modern all along the line, a slightly shimmering oak moss note gives the fragrance a seriousness in the finish that plays against the initial effervescence, only on fabric do I notice slight artificial wood residues the next day, which I could have done without.

Even if Body Paint sounds quite solitary at first with all these references, I gradually had to place it in the vicinity of a Corticchiato style: the notes I described as pear/solvent, could easily pass for eau de vie, i.e. high-proof, distilled, as first introduced by the perfumer in the delightful triple-mastix gem Corsica Furiosa (2014), later taken up in the ambrette-heavy Cri de la Lumiere (2017) [which in turn continues the ambrette/booze note of Jacque Polge's magnificent Chanel No 18 (EDT version !) (2007)], and which was most recently used in the sweeter, less high-percentage but thoroughly potent Salute! (2019) was used. The spirits note of Corsica Furiosa could serve as an 'organic' counterpoint to Body Paint's solvent facet. Naturally, such a note is rather fleeting, and overall I would describe the volume of the composition here as narrow; quickly close to the skin, but I can always feel it coming back to life over hours ...

All in all, Body Paint oscillates between the long tradition of clove-heavy fragrances, early Comme des Garçons artificiality and Corticchiato's own spirit distillates. A modern, without any citrus, fresh and somehow spring-like perfume, both for non-food lovers who like well-realized eau de vie / solvent notes, as well as for neo-clove fetishists who want to renounce the Caron magic of past decades.