Melisse2

Nocturnes as EdP from an original sample from 2020 compared to the mini of an EdT, whose age I could not find out. The older scent came to me in a set that also contains "Courrèges in Blue" and "Vent Vert", photo in my album.

In the prelude both versions are the same in my opinion. I smell soapy aldehydes, more bitter than those in N. 5, with a rather dry impression, and slight fresh notes of flowers. This is the phase when I start googling how long the above mentioned other perfumes were made, because I'm thinking that the mini-set could also be from 2015 and I'm testing the same fragrance on both wrists in parallel.

However, after about half an hour, the floral impression becomes stronger in both versions and they start to grow apart.

In the older version
there is now a smell of oakmoss, which has been used discreetly, however, and shifts the character of the eau de toilette towards a pleasing, unsweet, further soapy chypres. In addition, there is a general floral impression, without me being able to determine exactly which flowers are involved, and citric notes, which I also cannot further assign.
An hour later, the older version is a fresh floral chypre, with a delicate hint of vetiver, which will be more and more noticeable later. The bouquet is reserved compared to the younger fragrance, which suggests that vintage doesn't have more tinsel after all.

The modern EdP
becomes even more floral than the older version, also slightly sweet, also remains soapy and develops into a clean floral scent. Increasingly the chewing gum note of tuberose is asserting itself, at first favourably held in check by the other white-flowering plants and an echo of neroli.
At this time and in the hours to come, the current fragrance, as already noted, has a stronger aura than the older version, although it is also present in higher concentrations and tuberose is usually not very reserved anyway. Not in this case either, the floral opulence of tuberose gains the upper hand. I actually like this soapy, clean tuberose scent quite well, especially since a slight herbaceous spice is added. However, I have the impression that I have smelled similar creations before. Vetiver can also be perceived in the modern version. But it will take hours before we reach the same level as tuberose. And during this time the fragrance reaches a point where it becomes too sweet for me and I smell nothing else but sweet tuberose.

After 13 hours the surprise: While the older EdT continues to smell like fresh chypre with vetiver, there is only a sweet, indefinable hint left of the modern EdP. So there is.

Conclusion: Both Nocturnes have the same name and the same top note. Otherwise they are different scents. For hours I like both. The fact that I'm more inclined to the older fresh flowery and soapy chypre with a vetiver base than to the modern tuberose scent is certainly a matter of taste.

The House of Caron cannot be understood. Anyway, I don't understand it.

Most of his classics have been discontinued: Bellodgia, En Avion, French Cancan, Farnesiana, Or et Noir, Poivre, Fleurs de Rocaille, Nuit de Noel, Narcisse Blanc ...

Now I think it is possible that although I love these fragrances and consider them masterpieces, they sell badly. Because maybe most buyers prefer modern fragrances

If you follow this thought, it is absurd to continue offering the most bulky fragrance Caron has to offer: Narcisse Noir. Only Narcisse Blanc is similarly bulky.

I don't believe for a moment that the average perfume buyer, who usually prefers "La Vie est belle", would walk into one of the Paris Caron boutiques and choose Narcisse Noir, of all people.

Against this scent Tabac Blond is pleasing, almost sweet, friendly, a cuddly bear.

But Caron continues to use this gun for his customers. Or they cultivate their quirkiness by keeping him in the program. At the same time, however, comparatively catchy, easy-to-please Daltroff creations such as En Avion and French Cancan are no longer available. Purely commercial reasons cannot have this.

Or there are some very wacky sales tactics behind it, as Coriolon presents them in this blog post. The article was very interesting for me:

https://www.parfumo.de/Benutzer/Coriolon/Blog/Eintrag/Caron_das_etwas_andere_Parfumhaus

What can you expect now if you dare to spray Narcisse Noir? A stern, serious scent. It combines orange blossom and jasmine, opulent flowers that can also be small stinkers, with an animal depth of civet and musk that is second to none.

The result is the impression of a powdery pollen-like concentration of flowers, as described by Minigolf in the eau de toilette version. At the same time dirty animalistic, leathery, abysmal.

And yet at no point do I feel that this is too much, as it was with Salome from Papillon Artisan Perfumes, for example. At Caron, the notes are so masterfully interwoven that I am simply thrilled by both the intensity of the flowers and the animal notes and enjoy this work of art. Blossoms and animalism are interwoven with rose and real sandalwood

On the edge I perceive a slight soapiness, which however does not determine the scent impression for me. In the perfume version (I only know this one) the fragrance lasts more than 12 hours, becomes more pleasing in the course of time without ever losing its character and slowly and after many hours it changes into the enchanting caron base.

I definitely do not recommend a blind purchase.

If I've given you a taste for it anyway: I ordered a bottle from the Caron website before this comment was published, so that I wouldn't miss out. Just in case Caron still has Narcisse Noir on the website simply because they sell leftover stock and nobody wanted to have this scent until now. Because that seems the most likely thing to me.

Farnesiana was created in 1947 by Michel Morsetti, then Caron house perfumer, who is said to have taken inspiration for it from the notebooks left by Ernest Daltroff.

To what extent the version I describe here, which was re-released in 2017 in what I consider to be an extremely successful series, Collection Privée, differs from the original, I do not know.

Azura has already noted in her statement on "Farnesiana (1947)" that the fragrance in the base of Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue is similar.

I notice this similarity from the beginning. This is because for me both fragrances are primarily balsamic-powdery heliotrope-violet combinations. L'Heure Bleue juxtaposes this waxy powderiness with carnation and aniseed, while in the Farnesiana you can smell mimosa next to heliotrope and violet.

Now this finding makes me insecure. For as clearly as I perceive almond-vanilla heliotrope in both fragrances - it is not mentioned here in any comment or statement so far, neither in L'Heure Bleue nor in Farnesiana and of course it does not occur in the respective pyramids. So am I wrong?

I'm going to walk around blithely and until I am proven wrong, I assume that this is not the case

In the prelude and over the first few hours I find both L'Heure Bleue and Farnesiana to be rather unsweet scents. Besides carnation, bergamot and aniseed, L'Heure Bleue also makes you think of light leather, which I don't notice in Farnesiana. Instead, Farnesiana smells like mimosa - cool, fruity and distantly reminiscent of woodruff.

Here, Farnesiana invokes another caron scent, which also smells of mimosa, "Montaigne (2017) (Perfume)". But while the Montaigne has a fresher, more sparkling mimosa and on top of that an old-fashioned powdery soap, I find the mimosa in the Farnesiana more balsamic, more similar to violet.

In the further course, L'Heure Bleue, to return to the actual comparison, remains unsweet and elegant. Farnesiana becomes sweeter after a few hours. Rivegauche describes his perception at EdP as "almond marzipan vanilla". I can well understand the impression, but I feel this sweet twist is more like the scent of acacia blossoms that are the focus of Caron's "Acaciosa (2017) (Eau de Parfum)".

For me, Farnesiana is an enchanting old-fashioned classic fragrance, which, just like L'Heure Bleue, I still find wearable and not a bit dusty. Unfortunately, like the other fragrances from "La Collection Privée", it has been discontinued after the takeover of Caron by the new owners.

I hope this is just the calm before the storm and they are planning an (even better?) new edition of the Caron classics. In terms of time, however, hardly a year would have been better suited for this than the 100th anniversary of the most famous Caron fragrance "Tabac Blond (perfume)", which was not only let pass unused in 2019. But at the end of which (from November) this classic was no longer available either.

Already in the Middle Ages the monks of the Carthusian monastery "Certosa di San Giacomo" on Capri produced fragrances. When in 1948 the prior of the monastery found old perfume recipes, these were the basis for the first fragrances of the brand "Carthusia", which are no longer produced in the monastery, which has been a museum since 1974. Instead, the perfumes are developed in a perfume laboratory that the perfumer of the time called "Carthusia".
Initially, the fragrance products were sold exclusively on Capri, only since 2002 have they been available nationally and internationally.

All the fragrances still have a reference to Capri and thematise the herbs, flowers and scents of the island. The compositions of the perfumer Laura Tonatto are probably still based on the medieval formulas, which were adapted to the current perfume taste. Whether this also applies to the fragrances created by Luca Maffei, I couldn't find anything about that.
Further information on the history of the brand can also be found here on Parfumo under Infos & Facts.

What does "Capri Forget Me Not (Profumo)" smell like?

Wonderfully fresh, cool and herbaceous. That's how I feel about him. Above all it is a fig scent, but it does not trigger any coconut associations in me, which is often the case.

Together with citrus fruits, eucalyptus and a little mint, the fig provides a cheerful, juicy and refreshing start. I cannot separate the citrus notes exactly. I rather smell lemon and lime, less or no tangerine and also no orange. The South African Buchu bush (maybe some grow on Capri after all?) is said to smell like blackcurrant. No wonder I like that. But I wouldn't have come across cassis in this fragrance on my own, and even supported, I can only perceive something indefinably herbaceous, which without the pyramid I would have attributed to the slightly bitter Mediterranean herbs. But which are probably not in here. All right, Buchu. Or Davana

Flowery notes are added in the further course of the piece. Again, my nose is not much help here. I smell neither jasmine nor hyacinth and have forgotten how cyclamen smells. Not sweet, I think I remember, rather harsh. That may be true.

The flowers are not that important anyway, as the fragrance remains mainly a fig scent with eucalyptus, whose freshness slightly decreases and herbaceousness slightly increases.

The fragrance lasts for 4 hours, with a decreasing sillage and then can be perceived very closely with a pleasant drydown, in which I smell a bit of vanilla for the first time. Does not bother me in this case, I even find it suitable. I also believe in vetiver.

All in all, very nice. I'll test him against philosophers next. If I like him better, I'll raise the rating a bit more

There is no comment on this fragrance yet, neither for the vintage version nor for the new editions as eau de parfum and perfume in 2017.

Perhaps the Caron classics are a little out of fashion after all, and the low interest in these fragrances even on perfume proves this.

In October 2018, after twenty years of investment, the French cosmetics group Alès Groupe sold the Caron brand to the investment company of the Benjamin and Ariane de Rothschild family, also French, due to the decline in sales. With this acquisition there are hopes for the preservation of the Caron heritage. Ariane de Rothschild is considered a long-time fan of the brand and is said to wear "Or et Noir" herself, an exceptionally beautiful fragrance that smells like rose cream soap to me.

They parted company perfumer William Fraysse, who had only taken over the position from his father in 2017, and hired Jean Jacques, who had previously worked for the fragrance group Takasago for 22 years and of whom numerous fragrances are listed on Parfumo, which he developed for various brands. On Fragrantica you will find a contribution which mentions that Ariane Rothschild does not want to limit herself to the role of spectator, but wants to form a duo with the house perfumer Jean Jacques and realize her own ideas, as the tandem of Ernest Daltroff and Félicie Wanpouille has done in the history of the House of Caron. (All information found on different internet pages)

On November 1, 2019, a number of Caron fragrances were discontinued, including French Cancan. Whether this is final or one intends to reissue the classics in an improved recipe - I have not found any information about this

At the same time, the first four new fragrances by Jean Jacques were launched at the end of last year, and information about them can currently be found on Caron's Facebook page, for example, but they cannot be ordered. You can probably only get them in the Caron boutiques in Paris at the moment

Jeez, is this going to be a long commentary when the preface is already so epic.

So let's finally get to the fragrance itself, which I tested this time as a vintage version, although I don't know how old it is.

I don't really know what that means either, because it's certainly not from 1936, and a new formulation of French Cancan is documented for at least 2011, and it's likely that it underwent further changes when it was released in the Collection Privée series in 2017. Whether the scent was continuously diluted on that occasion is also not certain. Anyway, the perfume version of 2017 is on its way to me, so there will soon be a direct comparison possibility.

For me, Fench Cancan starts with a fragrance chord that remotely reminds me of the drizzly mist of "Orage@Louis Vuitton", only weaker, much softer and more complex - and which makes me look forward to the further development of the fragrance.

I smell above all a triad of orange blossom, patchouli and oakmoss. The latter not very strong and only a little green and bitter, which strengthens my belief that my vintage version is not ancient. And I have the impression that I perceive a part of the wonderful basis of "En Avion (perfume)" relatively early. The orange blossom appears more pleasing and discreet in the French Cancan than in the two narcissus scents of Caron. Slightly tart, but less strict and not at all Indolic.

Despite the lack of hesperides I find French Cancan to be a gentle chypre, I think I also notice the slight lemon sprinkles, which I definitely smell in "En Avion". With a touch of leather, the fragrance also evokes memories of "Tabac Blond"

Otherwise French Cancan is such a densely interwoven potpourri of different flowers that it is difficult for me to single out individual ones. I certainly smell a note of violet and rose in the beginning, but not as in the numerous rose scents of Caron, but rather in the floral series.
The fragrance becomes more and more powdery as it progresses. In contrast to "En Avion", the base lacks vanilla, making it look less warm but cooler and fresher.