Pleasures

(Review of a bottle c. 1998) I love Pleasures. However, I can understand why many do not - or, at least, do not care for it. Something about it smells “blocky”. This perfume has mass and density, and it’s in the shape of a big ol’ square block of... something. To use an American phrase, this perfume is built like a brick sh*thouse; it’s big, strong, blocky, and indestructible. In my opinion, a significant reason for this is because all sections of the perfume are abstract amalgams. There are no truly distinct notes in any section, everything - and there are a lot things to Pleasures - are piled-in high and tight on top of each other, resulting in a perfume that feels enormous, massy and dense. Take the opening for example, with the wet, green, lily note. Muguet shouldn’t smell aquatic, nor should it really smell green, it should smell of a white floral that is sweet, heady, and savory. Not here in Pleasures, instead the muguet smells like it was drowned in cold lake water, then pulled to the surface where it was immediately blasted by powdered and super-bitter green tea. Bizarre. It doesn’t stop there either. The heart section smells of every flower imaginable. Imagine walking into a vast florist shop, and telling the florist to make you a bouquet so big that you cannot smell any of the individual flowers, where all of them are at the same decibel level and overlapping with each other, and you’ll have the heart of Pleasures. Do all of the notes of the pyramid exist in this section? Yes, probably, I’m sure, but good luck picking them apart. One floral that I do believe I pick up quite noticeably is the karo karounde, thanks to what certainly seems like a chocolate facet. There is something brown, lightly fermented and roasted, woody, dense, and sweet to the heart section, like a big bar of chocolate. It’s not chocolate in the way gourmand perfumes frequently push, so please don’t get that idea, it’s much lighter and less sweet than that, but it definitely seems to be there to my nose, and lends to this continued overall feeling of a dense and blocky perfume. The base keeps to the amalgam theme by presenting every wood note you can imagine - sandalwood, cedar, rosewood, oak, all of them - alongside a light brown patchouli note that was disguising itself as chocolate earlier in the heart, but the blockiness has started to disappear as the heavy mass and density begins to disperse and relax into what is a very nice woody-melange dry down. Pleasures is a pretty odd perfume, and at times a bit difficult to wear and certainly difficult to read, but it’s also beautifully striking. The creative brief driving the perfume is an everyday wear for the woman who lives for life’s everyday little pleasures, and to that context there is a little bit of everything in Pleasures - except that the final result of all these little things ends up being enormous in summation. In fleeting and in passing it smells wonderful, easily wearable and approachable, and in close study it smells very complex and subjective. That’s what we want out of a great perfume, right?: some pleasures for everyone, and anyone of any style or need, that comes across its path.

Pleasures is another modern classic from Estée Lauder. A 1990s time capsule for many, it bridges the gap from classic aldehydic florals like No. 5 and, especially, White Linen; and the radiantly clean futuristic minimalism of the 1990s. This kind of thing served as a palette cleanser of sorts after the huge amber/tuberose/spicebombs of the 1980s. Pleasures is a beautifully formed sheer green floral; dewy, soapy, strangely snow-like and cleanly musky. It is the olfactory equivalent of the transition of winter to spring, as well as simply smelling like luxury soap. Pleasures has a dewy, sap-like green opening, heralding the beautifully-rendered muguet note that follows. The freesia, a sweet, aquatic floral note that I strongly associate with floral-fruities of the noughties, is used to perfection here, adding to the transparent floral theme. Green, slightly powdery violet follows, quite prominent for a spell. Pink pepper gives a tiny hint of spice. It is all very sheer and fresh. As it develops, a creamy yet soft white floral accord, reminiscent of rich soap, rounds out the heart beautifully. It remains sheer and green. Dewy rose and aquatic peony follow, with geranium adding fresh greenness. A clean musk develops steadily in the background, tying it all together, making it ethereal, soft, soap-like and snowy. Soft woody notes creep in as it dries down, becoming a cleanly musky skin scent. Sillage is moderate and longevity is surprisingly long-lasting. It is decidedly feminine to my nose. A beautifully composed, dewy, transparent floral with a lovely greenness throughout, Pleasures is remarkable in that it relies on musk instead of aldehydes to create its white soap effect. "A rich bouquet of fresh flowers after the rain" indeed. Made for spring days. Excellent. 4.5/5.

I got Pleasures as a gift from my sister’s best friend nearly thirteen years ago. I still remember it, we were on our way back from the airport where we picked him up along with my sister. I was sitting next to him in the car, and as if he suddenly remembered it, he pulled the perfume out of his bag and handed it to me. I thought it was immensely cute of him - I mean, he didn’t need to get it for me but he still did. Truth be told I wasn’t very impressed with the smell. It was nice, sure, but it didn’t feel like it was for me. But I wore it all throughout winter, so much that Pleasures became the background score to my university days, my jackets and shirts smelling of it for days on end. What would you know, I ended up marrying that best friend of my sister’s. It had been a decade since I last smelled Pleasures, and having read Luca Turin sing its praises in his book, I wanted to revisit that familiar smell. Why had I not liked it as much? Is it really as special as Luca Turin makes it sound? So on the last day of the year, I asked my husband to get this for me - it felt symbolic somehow. Ending the year with the first perfume he ever gifted me. That first whiff got me smiling. It was like greeting an old friend. And yes, I get how sparkly it is. It isn’t warm and inviting - no. It is almost intimidating, like that pristine elegant lady you see with her perfectly coiffed hair and manicured hands you appreciate from afar but don’t gather courage to go talk to. I am not into florals these days, but I will gladly make an exception for this one. On me I get a lot of cool green notes, and somehow it doesn’t really evolve a lot over time but sings a single harmonious note that isn’t jarring at all. Beautiful, simply beautiful.

What do you say about a classic that has spawned so many flankers? Notably - she is VERY body-chemistry dependent. This is a whole different fragrance on me than on anyone else. My body chemistry does something to this that makes it unrecognizable to others who wear this scent, but not in a gross or bad way. Lilacs and roses come to the fore. Deep, rich lilac, and both light and dark roses. Patchouli adds a spicy earthiness, but not offensively. Getanium adds a bit of a kick, but there's no pepper. I know it's there, but no one who smells this on me uas any idea that there's cedar in it. This version smells exactly the same as the original, on me and to me. It does smell like a garden after the rain, when I wear it. I can wear it all year. The weirder characteristic of this is that it's SO linear on my. There is no opening, there is no dry down, this is all hefty heart notes with the opening and dry down notes present as well, but not loudly. Body chemistry is such a funny thing. Flowers I am allergic to shine through, but do not create a headache, and not screechy. Huge warning - Estée Lauder notes are VERY volatile, do not expose your fragrances to too much light. The shelf life improves significantly by keeping these in the dark... so put them back in their boxes, not on a bright vanity. Anytime my Lauder fragrances have gotten darker, they are beginning to 'turn', so be wary. Celery, cat pee, or rotting white flowers are all definitely signs that your perfume is no longer wearable in a way that is enjoyable.

I'm wearing this scent as I write this, and if I'm not mistaken, Pleasures has been reformulated. However, I actually like my current bottle better than the vintage mini I had before. The vintage Pleasures had a snowy vibe to it that reminded me of Christmas trees in the dry-down. My current full-size bottle smells like a soapy floral with a hint of sweetness to it in the floral notes, maybe a sweet rose note? It's more wearable in my opinion. I found the original to be a little sterile; a bit harsh. Maybe it had just aged badly in the bottle and there is nothing different in my current bottle's formulation. More modern perfumes sometimes ages quicker and badly? I don't know. But what I do know is that I'm really enjoying my new fragrance. It makes me feel very feminine and extra clean somehow. I find it lasts a decent amount of time (i.e. at least 7 hours) and gives a decent amount of throw. It's not in your face though. Pleasures makes a good everyday perfume. I can't think of any time or place I couldn't wear this. Really, this is just perfection.