Chinatown

Some years ago now, I had a moment of random inspiration, and I decided that I was going to start seriously exploring perfume. I had always enjoyed wearing it, and I always had a little rotation of three or four different scents that I picked out mostly on impulse, usually because I read a magazine piece about something that sounded interesting; or, back in the good old days, I tried something random at a department store counter and found something I immediately loved. Considering the randomness of buying perfume before the internet, I had a pretty good batting average; I found treasures like Bulgari Black, Fracas, YSL Paris, Annick Goutal’s Eau d’Hadrien, and the original Parfum d’Hermes just because they were there and easy to find. But then, when I was running out of a treasured bottle of Creed Tubereuse, I realized it was time for something new. I went out looking in the usual places, and it seemed like the variety and quality of perfumes that I used to find on retail shelves wasn’t there anymore. I needed help. So, being the bookworm I am, I went to Amazon and found something to read . The book with the best user reviews had rather pedestrian title of Perfumes A-Z. So I bought it (the Kindle edition because I love instant gratification), hoping for a little guidance and inspiration. That book changed my life and ruined my bank account, and possibly contributed to the demise of my already shaky marriage. I became obsessed. Before I really dug into the book, I bought—on a whim, unsniffed—a bottle of Prada Infusion d’Iris Absolue, which wasn’t in the book, but even a cursory skim showed that the book’s the authors had a thing for iris, and Prada’s Absolue convinced me that I did, too. Since the book’s authors were right about iris, and even though they dissed my beloved Creed (which I replaced anyway and still love today), I ignored all sensible advice and started buying some of their other recommendations, flying totally blind. Parfum d’Empire’s Ambre Russe blew my mind. Mugler Alien did, too. Clearly something had been happening out there in the world of perfume, and I wanted in. Along with Ambre Russe, the book’s rave review of Chinatown led me down the garden path to the world of niche fragrance. So Chinatown was my second niche purchase, also bought blind, and it did not disappoint. It was another complete revelation. I had always assumed that patchouli was for stinky Deadheads, so finding it in the context of a glorious white floral in a gorgeously ornamented bottle (no, I didn’t get the Swarovski crystal edition; I could barely afford the preowned tester I got from eBay) blew my mind. II didn’t know a pink chypre from a hole in the ground, but I knew I had found my new favorite perfume. I’ve always had a passion for tuberose, and Chinatown fit right in with many of my old favorites from the 80s—Poison, Loulou, and my grandmother’s vintage Jungle Gardenia and White Shoulders had all been special loves—so it fell right in with my growing collection of what all the internet perfume reviewers called Big White Florals. But Chinatown had a lot more going on than just its fantastic, neon-caliber tuberose. It was teamed up with a stunning, brilliant peach that added a juicy dimension to its florals, and that irresistible combination was accented with a sweet incense that reminded me of Loulou—and then there was the spicy zing of that formerly fearsome patchouli, which I learned had actually been an element in some of my favorite perfumes all along. It was exhilarating to learn new things about perfumes that I already knew and loved, and even more exciting to find whole new worlds opening up as I started piling up samples, decants, and bottles with all the zeal of the newly converted. But in those early days of new love, Chinatown became my spirit animal, and the yardstick by which I measured most of my new purchases. On the basis of that one single buy, I decided that Bond No. 9 was going to be the first perfume house I would explore top to bottom, but the timing could not have been worse: Nordstrom was in the process of dropping the entire line, so their selection was severely limited, and nothing else I I could find from the house was even remotely as interesting as Chinatown. Also, Bond’s prices—even for their adorably wrapped samples—made risking any more blind buys from the house prohibitive. Besides, there were literally hundreds of other perfumes begging for my attention and my money. Nordstrom’s decision, frustrating as it was then, turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because it forced me to give up that particular fixation and move on to different perfumes and other houses. And time, experience, and lots of testing have convinced me that Chinatown is still the best perfume in Bond No. 9’s gigantic and extravagantly priced lineup. Smelling it now, with the benefit of experience, I realize what a lucky purchase that was. Some of the perfumes I bought in those early days haven’t held up, but Chinatown has. When I bought my bottle, word on the perfume boards was that it had been reformulated, and it was allegedly a shadow of its former self. (I suspect that this might have been, in part, because fresh bottles, especially freshly shipped bottles, never smell right, and people are quick to assume reformulated without giving their bottles a chance to settle down ). I don’t know when the juice in my bottle was made, or if it was reformulated or not (especially since Bond’s batch codes are notoriously opaque), but my Chinatown smells fantastic. The florals and fruit have integrated beautifully with the patchouli, which smells spicier than it used to, and to my nose it seems more like a true chypre—now that I know what that’s supposed to smell like—than it first did, with its layers of tuberose, rich peach, and incense all distinct yet beautifully bound together into a delightful, playful, but exotic blend on a classic base of gorgeously aromatic patch. It’s still dazzling, and I find something new to love every time I wear it. With spring here, I’m putting it into the small group of perfumes I keep out for seasonal rotation, and it still commands the same attention, enthusiasm, and affection I had in my early days of perfume obsession, and smelling it brings back the passion and excitement of new discovery from those early days of a hobby that I now know will be with me for the rest of my life. I’m eternally grateful to Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez for setting me on this road, and I hope that reading this review will remind old hands of their own early discoveries and also encourage newbies to take chances and keep exploring. And for goodness’ sake, get your hands on a sample of Chinatown if you’ve never smelled it, because it’s one of the greats. I think it’s gorgeous on anyone of any gender—its spicy profile works a treat on masculine skin, especially for evening wear. It easily merits five stars out of five, for being still unique, absolutely beautiful, perfectly composed, performing like an athlete at the top of their game (I’m serious; it’s strong as heck and it lasts forever), and for being so much darn fun. It’s a serious perfume in all but attitude, and a perfect antidote to dark moods, depressing news, and pretty much anything else discouraging that the world can throw at you.

Bond No 9 Chinatown EDP opens with a moderate projection of sweet, and floral notes. The opening is aromatic, delicate, feminine, and very pleasant. The floral is by far the most prominent note in this fragrance and each seems to contribute with something; the peach blossom brings a mix of white floral and peach accords, aromatic and delectable; the tuberose and gardenia add an intense white floral, dense, honey-sweet with green touches; the orange blossom is two steps behind and its notes are not as intense as the first two. As the fragrance commences to dry-down, the guaiac wood, cardamon and vanilla start developing boosting the fragrance from a moderate to a strong projection, the fragrance seems to catch new energies. The sandalwood and the vanilla create a noticeable, dry, aromatic, projecting, and very sweet accord; the cardamom also creates a noticeable projecting accord without overpowering the floral notes. The fragrance has some interesting opening to dry-down changes, the opening brings mostly peach blossom notes, but it isn’t long before the rest of the notes start developing and projecting, also and towards the dry-down, the fragrance develops a soft powdery but very projecting accord. Once Bond No 9 Chinatown EDP has reached its full dry-down, it can be summarized as a strong projection, very sweet (vanilla, sandalwood), floral (tuberose, gardenia), and spicy (cardamom) fragrance with woody, and faint green accords. The fragrance feels aromatic, bold, casual, comforting, commanding, creamy, delectable, delicate, delicious, dense, dry, elegant, energizing, exotic, expensive, feminine, floral, formal, fresh, high-quality, imposing, intense, invasive, inviting, long-lasting, mature, modern, natural, nicely-blended, playful, slightly powdery, refined, rich, romantic, spicy, very sweet, syrupy, versatile, woody, and very pleasant. BATCH REVIEWED: 2020. WOW RATING: 10/10. An impressive and well-blended fragrance. DISLIKE RATING: 3/10. It is very sweet, and the floral notes are very prominent. UNIQUENESS: 9/10. The resulting scent is unique. MASS APPEAL: 8/10. This is a fragrance that most people will enjoy, particularly mature wearers. PROJECTION: 5/10. Very good, about 5 feet around the wearer. SILLAGE: 10/10. Outstanding, 10+ feet behind the wearer. APPLICATION: 4 atomizations. LONGEVITY: 10/10. Outstanding, about 10 hours with a very good projection for about 4 hours. SEASONS: Winter, spring, fall, colder days, and climate-controlled environments. OCCASIONS: Formal events, outdoor gatherings, gym, office, casual, holidays, vacations, romantic, dating, clubbing. This is an office-friendly fragrance. VERSATILITY: 7/10. A versatile fragrance ideal for any occasion, and any season except summer. GENDER: Advertised as unisex, the floral notes are very prominent, they lean the fragrance to the feminine side. AGES: 30 and above. The dense floral notes make it ideal for mature wearers. RECOMMENDATION: Bond No 9 Chinatown EDP can be purchased for about $120, its performance is outstanding, a unique scent, perfect for those that appreciate sweet and heavy white floral fragrances. This is a great buy. BLIND-BUY: No, sample it first. SIMILAR: These are examples of fragrances in the same genre. AllSaints Sunset Riot is a very sweet, amber, orange blossom, and pink pepper fragrance; Amouage Reflection Man's EDP contains white flora, woody, and powdery accords, and it is very good; Bond No 9 Greenwich Village EDP is a fantastic, very sweet gourmand vanilla, praline, musk, ambroxan, white floral peony, water lily, jasmine, and litchi fragrance; Bond No 9 Hamptons, is floral, citrusy, powdery, musky, and woody fragrance; Bond No 9 West Side EDP is a great and projecting, very sweet vanilla, sandalwood, amber, ylang-ylang, rose, and peony fragrance; Cartier Declaration D'Un Soir is a spicy, soft floral, and sandalwood fragrance; Chanel Les Exclusifs Boy is spicy, floral, powdery, and citrusy, but also leaned feminine; Chanel Les Exclusifs De Chanel Jersey is an aromatic, floral, and musky fragrance, leaned to the feminine side; Creed Jardin D’Amalfi features mandarin orange, apple, spices, and woods, a great nice fragrance although very pricy; Guerlain Musc Noble is powdery saffron and musky fragrance with soft woody accords; Mancera Gold Prestigium Unisex EDP is a high-quality fragrance that contains leather, rose, and vanilla notes; Montale Orange Flowers is a white floral, citrusy and white musk fragrance; Moschino Toy Boy is a unique, sweet, ambery, magnolia, woody, and floral fragrance; Grand Parfums Chinatown is an excellent clone with outstanding performance; Bond No 9 Chinatown EDP is outstanding, it features very sweet vanilla, sandalwood, floral, tuberose, gardenia, and spicy cardamom. SUMMARY: A strong projection, very sweet (vanilla, sandalwood), floral (tuberose, gardenia), and spicy (cardamom) fragrance with woody, and faint green accords. The fragrance feels aromatic, bold, casual, comforting, commanding, creamy, delectable, delicate, delicious, dense, dry, elegant, energizing, exotic, expensive, feminine, floral, formal, fresh, high-quality, imposing, intense, invasive, inviting, long-lasting, mature, modern, natural, nicely-blended, playful, slightly powdery, refined, rich, romantic, spicy, very sweet, syrupy, versatile, woody, and very pleasant.

I sprayed this morning. A few sprays on the usual points, a spray on my hair, and a spray on clothes. All in all possibly 4 total sprays. What's great about this is, the scent is so pleasant, that it's very hard to over-spray. I wanted to keep spraying as I loved this beautiful gourmand. The initial is a cacophony of spices (the cardamom), vanilla, coconut (I smell fresh coconut oil for whatever reason), tuberose, and some sandalwood. 5min- The spices remain strong, however, we get a bigger whiff of the vanilla now, and that beautiful incense like sandalwood. I usually dislike incense smells, however, the incense smell in this perfume is addictive. 1hr- The above smell continues and a hint of patchouli and possibly cedar 3hrs- Scent is still strong, the spices subside, and the vanilla, incense, and that coconut smell is stronger. 5hrs- The above vanilla, incense, coconut smell remains, however the incense is beginning to now subside. 8hrs- I can still smell the perfume quite well on my self- not in just whiffs. The coconut vanilla scent is very prominent. 10hrs- I feel like the vanilla has subsided now, and I'm left with a a coconut oil scent, which is fine and comforting. Had I not changed, I think the scent would have continued to 10 hours. I think this is a lovely smell. It's very inviting. The initial spicy, incense like notes in the initial few hours make this perfume quite sexy. Is it ethereal and beautiful? It's beautiful, but it doesn't make me daydream, possibly because it's so gourmand. However, I love it! Smell: 8.5 (I loved the incredible beginning (first 5-6 hours or so), but after a while, the coconut oil smell became kind of overwhelming) Sillage: 7- I don't think this is a sillage monster, however, I like that. People 2 or 3 feet from you can smell you, but I don't think you'll fill up a room. It's very inoffensive. I can't see why anyone would dislike the smell of this beautiful perfume. Longevity: 9.5- (8 hours solid until I changed clothes, even after I get whiffs of it from my hair at around 10 hours. See my update for new comment on the scent) I love it! 4/5/2019 Update: Two days ago I used a blanket and immediately smelled this fragrance. I realized I used the same blanket the day I wore this perfume, and sat in my sofa. This perfume is incredibly long lasting. Updating my longevity score.

I already mentioned my love for this fragrance based upon a generous decant from a Fragrantician. I now own 2 1.7 oz bottles - I purchased it on my own, completely forgetting that I had "suggested" it as a Valentine's gift from my husband. I am fine with that, as I do indeed love it. I am very perplexed by many reviews here, and I'm going to have to chalk it up to reformulation. Having never tried the original, my reformulated bottles smell incredibly beautiful to me. To me, that magic lies in the incense vibe and how it softens to make room for some florals but never disappears. The cardamom is very strong, and on my skin, that in combination with sandalwood are intensely present from the moment I spray it on. However, reading the reviews here of the "vintage" version has left me desperately wanting to get my hands on a decant! I love white florals, and yet I can't really detect any tuberose, let alone gardenia! It's clear to me that they must have muted the white florals, instead choosing to really amplify the woods and spices, perhaps to give it a more "Asian" vibe in connection with the name. Or maybe I'm so used to white florals that they no longer stand out in the way I'm used to! Vintage Poison is the perfect example of how difficult it is for me to pick out tuberose when many other notes are present. It's considered to be a big, honkin' tuberose, but I just can't find it in there as it competes with other note. And yet, I still love it. The point of all this is that I get no tuberose and want to sample the vintage to see what, if anything, I'm missing. In the meantime, I will continue wearing it as it is because I really do love it. EDIT 9/6/2021 I somehow accidentally ordered a big bottle - a tester - and I am almost positive that it's the original formulation. This one has a depth the other one doesn't seem to have. They absolutely smell almost identical but something about my tester makes it stand out more. I gifted my mom one of my other bottles and reach for this one almost exclusively. Though I don't find myself having to respray often, I keep the smaller bottle in my purse. No matter what, I still find this to be a most extraordinary fragrance!

I have frequented the Chinatowns of NYC, Chicago, LA, and San Francisco, and never once did I smell anything like this at any of them. Which, I guess, I should find peculiar. China is the world’s largest producer of peaches; they’ve been growing them for thousands of years. You better love peaches to love Bond No. 9’s Chinatown. This fruity floral chypre is bound and determined. Energetic, actually. The hustle, bustle, vibrancy, and drama that seems to infect every Chinatown I’ve been to is present here. Once the sweet, effervescent, juicy peaches in the opening dispense the tuberose and gardenia of the heart layer are loud and clear with their diva qualities. Fleshy, creamy, nutty, a touch musky animalic, a sharp edge here or there, a bit of silky orange blossom to keep the fruity lean - it’s big, it’s loud, and it’s going to pull you right in. It’s a ruse, though. This isn’t a chypre. What is it? Damned if I know. I want to call it gourmand. The sweetness, the fruit, and the creamy and vanillic florals all give way to a white chocolate, straight vanilla and patchouli base mixed with creamy sandalwood. Perfumers and houses have long held this fascination with wanting to make sandalwood seem edible, and Chinatown makes no secret of this intent. Consider my appetite whetted. Is that my stomach growling? Gardenia and tuberose have long been easy sells for me, and I don’t know why. Even the classical or jazz devotee likes some saccharine pop music track or two. I’ve never wanted to eat them though. Corny. Cheesy. Crass. Puerile. Bordering on slapstick comedy. A Three Stooges sketch of a food fight. Darn good fun to wear.