L'Origan

I have a bottle here of the modern EDC. I think I paid $14 US for it. It's really lovely stuff, old-fashioned in the very best way. At first spray, orange blossom is definitely the star of the show, with its nostalgic "Cashmere Bouquet" soap quality (the way that bar soap still smells in the bathrooms of inexpensive Mexican hotels). Soon it is countered by an almost masculine ambered cologne quality, which subsides, and then you get the gorgeous powdery (not fresh) confluence of iris, carnation, ylang, rose, whispered violet ionones, and a subtle jasmine. Character-ful also is a note of methyl salicylate... that very nostalgic "wintergreen" smell, that, in larger doses, would flavor things like Pepto-Bismol, Pepsodent tooth powder, those old pink wintergreen round lozenges, Bazooka bubblegum, NECCO wafers, and those wax vampire lips we used to get at Halloween in the 70's. Methyl salicylate is used in perfumery mainly to enhance narcotic white flowers, like tuberose and gardenia. It's what bestows the famous "root beer" note to Dana TABU. (I notice some modern expensive niche fragrances will use the descriptor "sweet birch" instead of the more pedestrian "wintergreen".) In the base is a subtly spicy cushion of vanilla, benzoin (with its not-unpleasant vinegary nuance), nutmeg, clove, faint cinnamon, sandalwood, possibly some tonka, and a very subtle musk underpinning. All the notes of this perfume blend seamlessly, in the oldschool French manner. L'ORIGAN is not a seductive femme-fatale number by any means... it smells more charming, motherly and Norman Rockwell homey than swoon-y. Its lasting impression, to me, is like a quaint pomander or spicy retro cinema candy. It's much spicier and less overtly floral/anisic/farinaceous than L'HEURE BLEUE is, and much more sucrée than MITSOUKO. It's not nearly as Tuileries-in-the-rain "heartbreaking" as APRÈS L'ONDÉE is. It lacks the butch castoreum note that TOUJOURS MOI has. Nowhere near as complex, louche and nocturnal as HABANITA, or as opulent, musky/smoky and multi-tiered as SHALIMAR. It's very similar in quality to the classics from the "TITANIC" gilded era that Grossmith still sells, like PHUL-NANA, HASU-NO HANA and SHEM-EL-NESSIM, or the wonderfully retro-charming numbers of Oriza L. Legrand. Like all the Coty scents, L'ORIGAN has always been drugstore-affordable, and is not as grand and complex as the vintage Guerlains or Patous. I do wish I could smell a more concentrated jus of it, in PDT or Éxtraît... I suspect those smell richer and deeper? (Note: Don't expect any bargains on eBay for vintage Cotys, though: they now go for the same eye-watering prices as vintage Chanels). Me, none of my female forbears had any AIRSPUN powder by the time I came along in the 60's, so I have no particular nostalgia about this smell. Or if they did, my curious, grubby fingers never encountered it in my nosy toddler years. L'ORIGAN could conceivably be unisex by today's standards, especially after its floral accords pipe down a bit. Nice stuff. I kind of love it.

I was wandering around an antique shop today looking for furniture and decorative items and came across a vintage 1.25 fl oz bottle of this for twelve dollars. I thought I'd give it a whiff, and did I ever fall in love! I'm not so much an expert but I try my best to identify the different notes. I put a few dabs on my wrist and I have been sniffing myself repeatedly. Older fragrances are always so much more complex and fascinating. I got a LOT of orange at first, but now I'm at the heart. My, is this spicy! I don't really detect any nutmeg at all (to me, nutmeg smells quite unpleasant). I get some jasmine and a lot of spices. I can smell some other stuff too, but as I've said my nose nor my mind is the best at detecting it. It's strange that I think this is a lovely summer fragrance, seeing that usually spicy ones remind me of winter. Maybe all the fruit in it combined feels different than most. UPDATE: I've worn this for a while now and after reapplying in order to enjoy the orange note again my brother told me I smelled like an elderly woman. "You reek of old moth balls and death." I did put too much on, but it calmed down after a short while. Also, he's wrong. ;) I'm now at the base. I'm getting a lot of incense, hella vanilla, and quite a bit of Benzoin. Civet is kind of there but luckily not really noticeable. There's sort of a greenish hint as well. Is that the cedar? I don't really know what cedar smells like exactly. I don't smell musk, nor am I getting any coumarin at all. None. But oh well. I'm really quite happy with the combination that I'm left with. I will say that it is very heavy and there is no way that everyone will enjoy it, but for those who at least appreciate vintage fragrance (like most users on here do, possibly even more than I do) this is definitely a keeper. So far I think I'll give this an 8.8/10. It's not for everyone, but it sure is lovely for those who enjoy it. :) (I bumped up my rating from 8.7 to 8.8 because of my great fondness for vanilla and the drydown exceeding my expectations; I was nervous I'd end up with some offensive, animalic mess).

L'Origan is a piece of history. The version I own, an atomizer Parfum de Toilette for which I cannot quite pinpoint a date (60s? 70s?) seems to have been the right choice. It does not smell deteriorated at all, and it emanates sunlight through pastel filters. It smells eerily familiar in an odor-evoked-memory-of-decades-past way, and it's me in one of those pensive, yet not necessarily unpleasant states, where I recall lives that have been lived in the past that become only memories and those memories fade along with the aging kinfolk of those who had already past, as they too, become memories. It's like looking at old film footage of those going about their day in the streets in the early-mid 20th century, and you begin to imagine what must've been going through their heads, what sorts of dreams and hopes they had, what griefs and strife they held within. And wherein and within, among the pillboxes and trilby hats, the well groomed and dressed, there is the smell of L'Origan. It begins with a shimmering orange and nutmeg scented powder, swirling through the echoes, parma violet breaths and sighs, an orange flower that is bright-eyed yet sleepy, a bit of mimosa pom-pom tenderness. It all lies on a cushion of benzoin, vanilla, and tonka, and smells to me like one of my favorite holiday treats, a mince pie, stuffed with raisins and currants, lemon and orange zest spiced with clove and the aforementioned clove, finely chopped stewed apples. Now I cannot "un-smell" this impression, and it makes me love L'Origan even more. But then, I begin to think of the classic Karl Lagerfeld cologne and how much that seems to have been modeled after L'Origan, especially as I experience the latter's dry down—how curious! Now, anisette cookies come to my mind: apparently this has become my kind of "gourmand," of the less obvious sort. Similarities to L'Heure Bleue, while here, are superficial, really only sharing spice, violet, and texture. L'Origan is a most glorious relic to cherish.

Everyone has a fragrance that holds a special place in their heart or memory. L'Origan is mine. I've never smelled anything as beautiful (to me.) I've never thought that the Blue Hour could hold a candle to L'Origan, no matter how many times I've went back to retest that theory. Not for me. There've been other fragrances that smelled similar but none have ever done for me what L'origan has. I love the sweet spiciness, the soft yet striking carnation and clove in some ways resembling the orange pomanders we made in grade school for our mothers. EL Spellbound may have some of this same character to it. Wearing L'Origan doesn't remind me of any particular person, although it was a friend from the past who introduced L'Origan to me so to her I will be forever grateful. None of my female associations smelled like L'Origan. L'Origan is one I especially love to wear in this autumnal part of the year. To me it just fits dry autumn weather and that pinkish glow that happens in the late fall afternoons. L'Origan is sweet but in a makeup and powder way. I knew L'Origan way before I heard about Airspun powder's resemblance to L'Origan. Maybe L'Origan was the Flowerbomb of yesterday? Unapologetically candied makeup in a bottle. A friend recently sent me a small vintage bottle of L'Origan and I have the tall more modern sprays of it as well. I love them all. During the 80's we could still walk into small drug stores and see those bottles of L'Origan sitting next to the L'Aimant and Emeraude and all of them were so inexpensive! Oh to take a time machine backward and stock up! If only! All I can say is I hope everyone can find their own really special fragrance that is that mind out of body experience for whenever they feel in need of such a thing and these strange times do call for that. Thank you Francois Coty for this beautiful gem.

This review covers the vintage 1940s parfum and EDT formulas, as well as the current formula in the bottle labeled "cologne mist". First, the vintages. Both open with a very fleeting bright and green note, it fades very quickly, and I can't identify the note, other than it seems very "green". After that, both mature into sweet, floral, warm, powdery orientals with fruity undertones. The final dry down is where the two start to diverge. The parfum takes a turn further into the oriental category and the vanilla, wood, and musk notes take precedence and linger for hours. With the EDT, the middle notes last much longer then finally fade into soft powdery vanilla remnants at the very end. I actually prefer the vintage EDT, in my opinion it holds onto the middle notes longer, and that's what makes L'origan L'origan to me. The contemporary cologne mist formula is very much recognizable as L'origan. However, it seems to lack that distinct green note right in the beginning. And it starts, stays, and finishes as the characteristic scent of the classic Airspun face powder. If that's what draws you to the fragrance, you will be pleased with this formula. I do notice some similarities to the older version of Estee Lauder's Spellbound. But in that they could be sisters, or perhaps cousins, and not twins. I find it to be a classic scent that is still wearable tody. For me, it's a nostalgia and comfort fragrance, as one of my favorite aunts always used both Airspun face powder and L'origan fragrance. This fragrance is childhood Auntie hugs in a bottle to me.