Jules (2016)

I agree with 11Mic22hael33 (see below) that the pyramid for the original version of Jules helps to better communicate the experience of wearing the fragrance than the more abstracted one used above. Jules opens with a heady flush of sensations, at once bright, rich, herbal-medicinal, and animalic. Bergamot and galbanum are the dominant top notes, but a culinary basil and bitter, agrestic artemisia are very present and, just as they do in Caron’s famous Yatagan, create at times a vegetal, almost-celery-like accord that comes and goes throughout the life of the wearing. A smooth leather accord is detectable from the start, with aldehydes wrapping any prevailing rawness in a glossy package, much as they do in more distant relatives in Jules' extended family like Caron Troisième Homme or YSL's Kouros. The unlikely star of the composition is cyclamen. While cyclamen flowers do not deliver a strong fragrance in nature, aromachemicals derived from cyclamen have been compared to rhubarb (stemmy, wet, translucent, tart-sweet), but also *linden blossoms*... When I read the reference to linden in a description of the use of cyclamen as a perfumer's material, everything fell into place. My childhood home had a massive linden tree in the front boulevard, and I smelled those sticky, green, honey-scented blossoms for two decades of my youth. The odour of linden blossoms dominates the heart of Jules, merging with a profound galbanum note and stirred up headily with supporting conifer notes and an animalic castoreum accord, the latter a warm, unguent, boozy-smelling-father-in-a-leather-jacket hug.) This is a closely blended composition; various notes create a condensed series of overlapping accords: the sweetly mentholated aspects of fir resin blend smoothly with the sweatiness of lavender leaves, while earthy cumin suggests a hint of body odour that, when combined with a jasmine/hedione note in the heart, produce a curious moment of dissonance within the overall composition somewhere between a curry-like savour, a bitter freshness resembling Dutch black liquorice, and the blatant sensuality of browning indolic white flowers in glass vase of murky water....I know I'm not exactly selling it (!) -- but it is without a doubt a challenging, involving conversation. Though recognizably connected to the era when Jules was first produced, has the character, clarity and refinement of a classic Dior composition, albeit not one of a 'bestseller' (if it were a book by F. Scott Fitzgerald, for instance it would the overly long and flawed and frankly more grown-up Tender is the Night rather than bright star of The Great Gatsby...) Its herbal-floral heart is dense, simultaneously lactonic-soapy and earthy-musky but not without some animalic tenderness, with a bewitching mix of syrupy, oily, mossy and leathery textures that lead to a rich, musky base, producing an alluring sillage in the drydown. The skin scent confers the comforting presence of what many will recognize as a ‘shaving foam’ accord wafting out of an open shirt after a workday’s wearing, as experienced, for instance, in the fuzzy masculine base of Paco Rabanne Pour Homme. All is coloured by a touch of the humid rusticity characteristic of 1970's aromatic compositions like Quorum, Aramis Devin, Paco, etc. overlaid onto the classic 'fern'/fougère accord of lavender, geranium, tonka bean and moss. The colour of the juice, like sunflower yellow darkening to dim chartreuse, perfectly captures its sappy, tonic essence. Like other complex aromatic fougères of the 70’s-80’s (Hermès' Equipage, Azzaro Pour Homme, Paco Rabanne Pour Homme, Caron’s Yatagan and Le Troisièmme Homme...), Jules throws together a long list of ingredients crafted in such a way as to create accords that smell the way your favourite 20th-century vinyl sounds – smooth, warm and a little luminous, as it segues seamlessly from track to track in a sustained theme that delivers a unified impression even when some of the tracks are more demanding than others. I have not tried the original version of Jules, and sometimes question certain choices, but the authorship of this reconstruction feels assured. Nothing here feels out of place or conspicuously synthetic, and Jules is an excellent, well-paced performer that has gained considerable potency as my bottle has aged. I feel I should stop a moment to quickly address the obvious revelation that Jules is a bit of a dinosaur... and yet it doesn't feel inappropriate for a middle-aged-but-not-quite-dinosaur-ish man like me. It smells of its era but is too lucid in its presentation of quality, well-defined notes and complex accords to be reduced to a generalized placeholder for an archived decade. Its unconventional beauty pushes beyond the boundaries of the 'expensive-smelling genre placeholder', which was basically my bottom-line expectation when I went looking for this. Someone has carefully brought this composition into the 21st century. Noting Brokesta911's comment above that its Demachy who reformulated this, I think that that that makes perfect sense, as my experience of his reformulations is that they are tidy, attentive to the the sketched gesture of original, and relentlessly tasteful. It took me a long time to come to terms with Jules because I have spent so much time with some of its hardy, historical company (Yatagan and Paco Rabanne Pour Homme are old favourites of mine)...But Jules really deserves attention on its own merits. I don't wear it every week, but it's perfect for days when I want to experience the character, complexity, finesse and strength (spray lightly!) of this truly 'characterful' composition. It moves, it flows it carries, it defines a space, it acts like a second skin -- it remembers you to you.

A couple of further notes: @Fashion_Munir: to avoid any misunderstandings (and apologies in advance if I am misunderstanding *you*), the designation of 'Jules 2016' refers to the date of its formal rerelease (though some claim it never left the market entirely), and -- no doubt -- reformulation...That is to say that any bottle put out by Dior since then is effectively the '2016' version, though we all probably recognize that fragrances are reformulated in minor ways on an ongoing basis. [If you are generally horrified by reformulation panic, don't be -- this is a great performer with an authentically 'vintage' aura.] In re: comparisons to Hermès Equipage -- Yes and no, though mostly no. Both have an 'agrestic freshness' effect that uses garden herbs and a touch of conifer notes to deliver a freshness that is/was a very 1970s alternative to either the eau-de-cologne-citrus freshness of classical perfumery or the 'shower gel' freshies that followed on Cool Water, et al. This herbal-aperitif effect complicates the more conventional bergamot-based opening of so many masculine fragrances... Both also use a liquorice-like twist of the sweet-yet-savoury variety (hyssop and tarragon in Equipage and artemisia caraway in Jules) to take this freshness into earthier terrain while maintaining a relationship with a lavender core [and yes, Fragrantica does not list lavender in Equipage, but if you can't smell it there, see a doctor and fix your sniffer!]...This twist may remind you of the use of fennel and anise in Azzaro Pour Homme, which although not as chypre-like, is a player in the same club. There is an almost liqueur-like quality to the way these herbal and earthy notes balance the conspicuous floral notes (jasmine and carnation) common to the compositions of both Jules and Equipage. Key differences? - The leather accord in Jules is sweatier and oilier (the castoreum accord)...It's the combination of intense green (galbanum), sweaty leather and rich floral booziness (cyclamen cranked up to 11 by aldehydes and hedione) that make Jules Jules. One facet in all of this these reminds me at times of the smell of boxwood (cat pee if you want to be vulgar about it), and at other times of the use of myrtle in Chanel's Antaeus. - Meanwhile, the leather accord of Equipage is straight Hermès: if you are familiar with the genteel-yet-edgy leather-citrus combination of Eau d'Hermès, you'll know it straight away... aniline yet refined, its buttery tannins contrast deliciously with liatris (a desiccated floral-powdery sweetness), vetiver, and clove, clove, clove to suggest pipe tobacco in both its wafting and smoky qualities. This unmistakable olfactory hallucination is unique in my experience of perfumery and nowhere to be found in Jules. Finally: Jules, as the stronger performer, has an oily, overbearing masculinity that is barely kept in check, whereas Equipage, lighter on musks and animalics, is simply more civil -- no psychodrama and no swagger -- and also thoughtful, decisive and thoroughly 'masculine' in the way of the old school. Jules reads like both a throwback to the past and a contemporary niche contender. Equipage feels like a well-preserved piece of Hermès history. Both are fun to wear but I reach for Equipage more often.

if you try a blind sniff on this thing u cant believe it was released in 2016. it smells like an 80"s powerhouse, green, leathery with an animalic undertone. i never tried the previous versions, but jules 2016 is one of the bravest release of the last years. it's not only brave but absolutely well crafted. the quality of the juice is incredible, the notes dont clash at all and the creator made something that brings you in the 80"s like a time machine. it opens a bit fresh with herbal notes and galbanum, then the oakmoss, cedar and leather are more prominent. like i said before, there's an animalic note that reminds a lot of "old" fragrances. if u want to know something similar, in my humble opinion chanel antaeus is very close: the notes are similar and the high quality too. jules is more casual, more wearable nowadays, antaeus is more elegant and darker. maybe a mix of antaeus and hermes equipage can give u an idea of what jules is now. jules is not the most versatile scent in 2021, so i recommend it only to mature people or a collector, for casual and formal situations, not with a sporty outfit. the touch of brightness in the juice makes jules good not only for winter, u can wear it in spring and fall too. good performance, a bit strong in the first hour, then became softer but the longevity is for 8-10, so i cant complain about this. i think it's a great work from dior, but not for everyone, so be careful for a blind buy. if u are looking for a compliment magnet like dior sauvage stay away from here. se lo sniffate ad occhi chiusi non ci credereste che è un profumo del 2016. edt veramente anni 80, con le classiche note verdi, animaliche e di cuoio tipiche dell'epoca. mi ricorda antaeus di chanel, ma jules è meno dark, più erbaceo e più indossabile in questi anni. performance più che buona, il profumo urla qualità ma se non vi piacciono gli edt vecchio stile lasciate stare, non è un profumo per rimorchiare o per tutte le occasioni. adatto ai meno giovani. scent-9 long-8,5 sillage-8 versatility-7,5 uniqueness-8,5 presentation- 8 back up bottle worthy? Yes compliment factor-7 my vote: 9 in one word- brave alternative- chanel antaeus, emilio pucci signor vivara, puig quorum, ysl kouros....

Just received my new flacon of JULES in the modern/current EDT, directly from DIOR online. The smell is gorgeous, and has very little to do with the original 1980 scent, which I remember as having a certain warmth and hint of sweetness, totally absent here (Just sayin'). The current scent opens with brilliant, sparkling aldehydes, a green galbanum stemminess, laced with a vivid, nose-clearing aromatic fir, and a geranium-like bracken of damascones. Then a faint whisper of something civet-like, or at least animalic, makes its presence known. Everything is made cool by an omnipresent refreshing menthol sheen. Faint soupçons of tanning tar peer tastefully through the medicinal haze, laced with-- yes, a curious, unexpected floral note. Something in its hibernian flintiness seems Russian to me, somehow, like you are that lumberjack/skin trapper tobogganing through the Taiga: snowy asperity is your element. It is all exceptionally elegant, extremely refined, exquisitely tasteful. Neither dated, nor bleeding-edge hip-- just very French, streamlined and forest-y. And it resembles the 1980's formula little at all (I know because I went through several flacons of the old stuff circa 1988-1992) Leans masculine, but there's no reason in the world a woman couldn't use it, if she loves cooling, medicinal/aromatic, coniferous notes. The whole effect is one of refinement, sly suaveté, nothing "chunky" or "men's after-shave-y" going on. Utterly devoid of sweetness, yet never arid, desert-y or sterile. Obviously a scent formulated by an expert nose. Verdict: I definitely love it... it is some really intrepid and stylish perfumery. But definitely an "acquired taste": its bitterness, angularity and curious stridence make it one of those uncompromising fragrances, like Caron YATAGAN, Lalique ENCRE NOIR, Piguet BANDIT or Nasomatto BLACK AFGANO. You either dig it or you don't. For an EDT, it is amazingly powerful and must be applied with a light hand. (read: any more than 2-3 spritzes, and you will waft like a scented Chernobyl). P.S. The fabulous René Gruau illustrations for JULES are a direct allusion, I'd say, to the cabaret posters of Toulouse-Lautrec for the chanteur, Aristide Bruant.

If you blindfolded me and presented me with Jules for the first time, I might have thought it was some lost Chanel creation from the late 70s or early 80s. The aldehydic opening with sharp, green galbanum might easily have been produced by Chanel (as a precursor to Antaeus, perhaps) in that era. However, after the sharp green opening, Jules veers off in a rougher, seriously classic masculine direction all its own. The midnotes are a bit less sharp than the opening, and they introduce a trace of floral chypre style to this leather scent. But even in the mid, the green, bitter elements still predominate here. The base brings a gruff, hard leather note along with a pine-fir element and a bit of synthetic, vaguely pissy, civet. The bitterness and civet mellow rather quickly after they arrive, and the composition begins to smell reminiscent of Guerlain's Derby. All-in-all, this is a classy, yet bold, occasionally rough but mostly elegant manly man's fragrance. Think John Wayne in A Saville Row suit. As a modern reinterpretation of classic leather scents of the early 80s, Jules is a complete success. This stuff is not for those folks who are into gender ambiguity, subtlety or non-assertiveness. This is a defiantly masculine scent. Folks who do not like galbanum should steer well clear, everyone else should sample first, because this fragrance is not universally appealing. I love it and I look forward to wearing it during the cooler seasons where it works best as a daytime scent. Lovers of big, bold retro masculine scents will likely join me in a love of Jules, and everyone else, well, who knows? But this scent is exceptionally well made and worth the effort that it takes to sample it if only to get a reminder of how potent leather scents once were.