Youth-Dew

(Review of a vintage bottle c. early 1980s) I get a little chuckle every time I reach for my bottle of Youth Dew. The name "youth" and "dew", the dainty bottle with a bow, all betrayed by a juice that is inky dark brown like a forbidden elixir and appears to have nothing to do with daintiness, youth, or dew. It's intimidating for the modern perfumista's eye, and indeed the juice tells the truth more than the rest of the presentation. If there is any truth to the rest of the presentation, it's the "youth" part of it in that this is the wild and untamed side of youth. Hold onto your organza and pillbox hats, ladies, and keep the hems of your dresses in hand lest they be blown upwards in immodesty. The way Youth Dew opens, or, more accurately, the way it belts with a contralto into the space around you is startling. All eyes, ears, and noses will have their attentions held. Aldehydes, parched woody spices, nose tingling bergamot, and juicy tree fruits explode into a mushroom cloud that releases a shockwave of throat-scratchingly dry jasmine and cinnamon. I, personally, find it very difficult to relay just how much power lies behind the first few minutes of Youth Dew. Every single note has gone past Spinal Tap 11 volumes but yet they don't deafeningly ring in your ear leaving you with tinnitus. A dry and peppery red rose and a starchy yellow-floral ylang-ylang creep in during these initial minutes, providing a baritone rumble to the contralto shockwave. A brown and loamy patchouli swells upwards like a bassy wave, carrying with it enough oakmoss, civet, and ambergris to make a whole other perfume. It is floral, spicy, earthy, dank, musky, woody, green, damp, fecal, salty, and animalic - it is everything, yet manages to be perfectly legible and coherent despite delivering a page's worth of information in the space of a couple sentences. Eventually, the volume dial gets turned down but the power remains even as we dry down to the base; Youth Dew still has the projection and sillage of warfare. This lower volume yet equally powerful base is a carryover of the patchouli, oakmoss, and animalics, the latter of which have shifted to a more leathery character, while balsams and benzoin provide woody vanillics and resins to help pull-on the reigns a bit. Make no mistake though, despite the reign pulling, this is a still a brace of steeds at breakneck power and strength. Youth Dew certainly made a splash in 1953 when it was released. It announced Estee Lauder as a house for the everyday blue-collar woman with its affordable prices, while providing them with French-style elegance and luxury but amplified to volumes appealing to the inherently outward confidence of Americans rather than the restrained sophistication of Europeans. An English friend of mine once said "You can hear Americans long before you see them" and that's an equivalent description of Youth Dew. Its message was well received, loud and clear, even so on the Euro side of the pond though some time later, evidenced by the near-facsimile release of YSL's Opium in 1977 (which really peeved Ms. Lauder and Co). Today Youth Dew is a relic relegated to the Boomerville Museum, though kudos to Lauder for still keeping it in its lineup. This is the other part of Youth Dew that makes me chuckle: many noses born in the 21st century will smell this and immediately dismiss it for being too old, too retro, and not of today's style. Yet Youth Dew is far more complex and intricately formulated than nearly everything else you can buy today for the money, with today's offerings that get anywhere close to this likely costing three times as much; no one else will be wearing it, so if truly being "original" and "unique" in your fragrance profile is important, it's virtually guaranteed that you will not run into anyone smelling like you; if you want a "beast mode" fragrance (eye roll), this is the OG and very little gets close, even today; and, though this was meant to be for women in 1953, thanks to shifting tastes over the generations this is now easily unisex. I still remember the first time I wore this to work, feeling bold and not caring how many people in the district could smell me, and by the end of the day I lost count of the number of compliments and questions I got. I'm pretty certain one employee was intentionally trying to follow me around. And that's the final and most important thing in the case for Youth Dew: it simply smells amazing. It is startling complexity, exquisite luxury, infectious vibrancy, magnetic confidence, and youthful energy all packed into a demur little bottle tied with a yellow bow. I chuckle every time. Long live Youth Dew.

I think it's important to touch on the comparisons between this and Opium, as even though they're both proud women, standing strong as era-defining individuals, they're undeniably linked in a way that is important to many a frag-head and sentimental alike. They exist in separate points in time, yet overlap in such a way that, to someone such as myself, is simply poetic. I view Youth-Dew in a way that transcends her, albeit captivating, scent profile. The way I view it is that Opium is a young, wild and free 'Miss' in the 70s with her hair down, her dress short, and her reproductive rights covered by a magic drug known as "the pill", as she dances the night away with heady abandon while a tasselled, Far East-inspired flacon sits upon her dresser at home - the instigator, if you will, of nights like the above - existing as the liberated, rebellious and breathtakingly beautiful daughter of Mrs. Youth-Dew. Opium reaps the rewards of YD's cleverness, but also, her struggle. YD looks at her daughter with eyes tinged with an unmistakable bittersweetness - not because of envy, nor anger - unlike how Estée felt after realising that the blueprint of her iconic fragrance was copied and updated by YSL - but because she had to subdue her powerfully feminine sexual energy by way of doing up her top button and honouring her post-WW2 husband's wishes. She was a dutiful wife, but midnight, as it often does, would awaken deeper desires within her that had to find an 'out' - and so, she channeled herself into an extrait masked as a bath oil: something of a hygiene product that found itself dabbed onto pulse points, flying under the radar of many a hubby's finances because it wasn't quite the time nor the place to buy oneself a perfume - especially in the midst of a post-war squeeze on finances. She was a heady soak that had women pressing their noses into her skin as the deep, dark balsamic spices enlivened true femininity, even if, by today's standards, Mrs. Youth-Dew is entirely unisex and still offers her best to whomever feels brave enough to drape her over their décolletage. Indeed, YD seems to personify the wise words of my Great-Grandmother: "The art is to conceal, never to reveal; a woman should always be a mystery to a man" - and a mystery she is, even in her IFRA-challenged state, as there is still a ghost, an imprint, of something that was so sexy that it burned its way through a Berlei brassière (for your typical Australian and/or British consumer, that is), while somehow remaining cinched in tight with a bow around her waist to boot. A wifed-up type of sexuality that burned away under layers of fabric, and a heady, oakmoss-supported spiciness that permeated her daydreams and utterly penetrated her nights with eyes sealed shut as she fixated on her skin's addictive scent. Youth-Dew found a way to lead the charge on the Oriental front, while remaining acutely aware of the expectations placed her upon her, even when Estée "accidentally" cracked her open on a department store's floor, seducing French consumers who would've otherwise turned their noses up at such a bombastic American scent. She was/is such a clever, clever woman - not girl, as that title is reserved for the Big O (as in Opium) - and she defined an era long before she came to define a genre. Modern noses may recoil in confusion or even disgust, as it requires a degree of maturity and awareness to appreciate her that present fragrance culture doesn't fully support. But my goodness, her ghostly hand still reaches across decades just to warm you up with just a few sprays, offering comfort, support, and an unmistakable sensuality that dares you to reach into the depths of your own self-perception, knowing that within every girl still trying to explore and understand herself lies a woman, fully embodied, with bared teeth that can bite through or simply graze skin, depending on the situation. See, YD is more than a pyramid of (now restricted) notes, but rather, a period in time - a turning point, if you will - that still has a loyal following of those who understand what she was, what she birthed, and who still wish to honour her even to this day; be it at mass or during a romantic outing with a special someone who finds you to be especially irresistible on the night you decided to grab Mrs. Youth-Dew by her bowed waist and spray her into the present day once again, or dab her onto your skin - in the way that was originally intended - as she comes alive with your body heat and steps into a technicolour world where her own heartbeat can still send present-day pulses racing.

This perfume is both mind-bogglingly gorgeous and slightly off-putting in a way that's hard to describe. I did a full-day wear test and sampled it a couple more times, and I still have mixed feelings about it. After a lot of testing and deliberation, I've decided not to purchase this one at this time, as I'd like to focus on fragrances that are more easily wearable in my daily life. That being said, I still wanted to write up a full review so I can come back to this perfume later on and maybe give it another go. On first sniff, I was hit with a wave of heavy, musty florals. But after a few minutes, as it settled onto the paper card and melded with my skin chemistry, the scent shifted slightly and I began to sense the other notes. This fragrance is remarkably complex yet well-blended, making it difficult to pick out individual notes, as they all seamlessly integrate into one harmonious whole. Knowing that certain familiar notes are present makes me feel like I can pick them out more easily--jasmine, orchid, Peru balsam, oakmoss. Likewise, knowing that certain scent profiles are present makes them easier to detect, like the smoky accords. But then again, I feel like I'm also smelling phantom notes that aren't here--if you told me this fragrance had sandalwood, for instance, I'd believe it in a heartbeat. Perhaps this is why I understand what people mean when they say it has a Coca-Cola note. There's something about the perfume that feels effervescent, spicy and syrupy, a little sticky yet not overly sweet. Smelling this perfume while sipping Diet Coke only enhanced this effect for me. Especially as the fragrance becomes spicier over time, I can discern the faint sparkling cola note peeking out every now and again. This fragrance is a rose-heavy floral, a bit medicinal, even a tad powdery at times. There's a slight note that's almost creamy, too, but not in a lactonic way; it smells like my mother's cold cream. At its core, that's exactly what this fragrance smells like to my nose: rose-scented cold cream. Over time, though, as the fragrance becomes spicier, it also begins to lean away from its floral heart and more into its resinous and balsamic accords. The patchouli is certainly present, but it's more subtle and doesn't make me itch like in other fragrances. The final hours of this perfume are incredible. There's something almost waxy in the deep background that I can only smell when I get close and sniff hard; I have to assume that's the tolu balsam, since that's the only note I haven't smelled before. Throughout the day(s), whenever I smell myself or the sample card directly, I'm reminded of my old-fashioned mother, her cold cream, and all her other lotions and potions carefully arranged in the bathroom cabinet. But whenever I catch whiffs of myself throughout the day, I feel like this fragrance is unexpectedly spicy and smoky. I'm imagining a glamorous woman with deep red painted lips, swathed in lush white furs, sprawled out across a velvety tufted chaise lounge, sucking in tendrils of smoke through a long cigarette holder, while smooth and sultry jazz music wafts through the room from a record player in the background. Overall, this perfume is very heavy and enveloping, a bit thick, definitely not the type of perfume you'd want to overspray. I always sprayed myself twice--one small spritz in the crook of each arm--yet I could smell the perfume all around me, without having to bring my arm up to my nose, and I could even catch bits of the perfume while wearing my cardigan or a sweater. Part of me doesn't like this perfume very much, as it has a sort of stuffy quality. But part of me is obsessed with this fragrance, because it's so complex and different from anything else I've tried. I keep muttering to myself, "What in the world is this? What in the world am I smelling?" Yes, it's feminine and floral, but it's also incredibly heavy and spicy. It's earthy and woody, but it's also powdery and smoky, too. This scent is intimately familiar to me, yet I also haven't smelled anything remotely like it before. It shifts over time, morphing from one scent into another, into yet another, and back again. It's a complete and total enigma; I can't wrap my mind around it. (Also, apparently this fragrance is weaker since being reformulated, and I just can't imagine how potent this must have been seventy years ago.)

*review is for a vintage pre-barcode (80s) glass bottle of Youth-Dew, and the Opium I'm talking about is the original late 70s-early 80s formula As a guy that loves to wear my precious vintage Opium for women, it was only a matter of time...id have to own this. And I'm here to say, yes, Mrs. Lauder was pretty much sort of right in saying opium is a rip-off lol. Opium is literally like they just messed with the volume knobs on Youth Dews formula. And the thing is, its STRONG too, possibly coming close to first formula Opium. If you just want to know if its good, YES, HELL YES and the price is insanely cheap for the quality you can experience. So what's different? They're truly, truly equally amazing and beautiful, no question there whatsoever. Youth Dew might even get points for making something so bold in 1953, though its oriental predecessor Shalimar and its strength/ambery vanilla may make some people argue my point on that. Plus my knowledge of vintage women's perfume is limited compared to many others. 1. The Youth Dew has a little soapiness that's generally noticeable from some nice use of lavender, unlike the Opium that has a much less obvious and small soap thing going on, Some might not even get it upon smelling vintage Opie. 2. Where old Opium goes more heavy on incense and resins, almost in the realm of some classic Amouages, Youth Dew does "that thing" with a really beautiful (and some might say a little modern-masculine) cinnamon. Its an old school, high quality and very comforting cinnamon. Like a hug from a loved one on Christmas good. Experiencing the sillage on somebody else as a bystander as they walk by is all built around this beautiful cinnamon. They both have the same level of resinous (but not saccharine) sweetness to me, just they do it a little differently from each other. 3. They both have this "Lotion" thing going on as a result of smelling it as a whole. Youth Dew goes in a kind of coconut direction with it while the Opium is more of just a sense of lotion of the unscented variety in comparison. Maybe ill pick up on other differences in the future but this is my initial reaction after a few days to Youth Dew. If you like oakmoss and want to see it used in a functional/technical sense as opposed to being a facet of the perceived notes, these both must have a TON of oakmoss in them, being used as atomic bomb level fixatives. i detect the oakmoss separately more in the Youth Dew, but the Opium is just so convoluted (in the best way possible lol) i cant pick it out on its own. Both of these perfumes (the vintages at least) literally, truly last for 48 hours on skin, even surviving the quick shower before work until arriving home the second day. Shoutout to Ramsey on Youtube for alerting me to how wearable as a dude, awesome, and close to vintage opium this is! Buy this while vintages/new bottles are still dirt cheap...trust me. This is high perfumery to the extreme for a pittance. p.s. @Calyx93, im glad you mentioned the blue bottles. those vintage blue ones go for great prices too, but people should be aware that theyre aerosol bottles as far as i understand...as in they have that old bad-for-the-ozone aerosol gas in them lol where theoretically if you hold down the sprayer it will just empty the bottle if you dont stop. i was leery about getting one thats 40 years old lol, so i went with the glass bottle.

Placed a review ages ago. I was impressed but overwhelmed. This is something that takes some time getting used to. I was cocky enough to think that i would be able to pull this off in an instant. I looove vintage opium so i figured this wouldn't be a much bigger challenge. Boy was i wrong. Youth dew is much more unpredictable then the forementioned opium and the opening is roaringly sharp. There's a bitterniss or a greenness within the raging balsems and spices wich gives it this cold rusty base underneath it all before it settles into a powdery while simultaneously oily dry down. I wore it multiple times when i first got it but each time the inconsistenty of this scent, the way the notes are suddenly able to turn into the oposite direction of where they were going gave me a headache. I eventually gave up and sort of forgot about it. Untill today. Maybe it is because i find myself pregnant as the day is bright and my senses have altered but i have been struggling to find any scent to wear for te past 5 months. I keep having dreams though, a recurring hunger wich creeps up on me on the daily, for a particular forgotten oriental hidden in the back of my closet right behind my big 120 ml bottle of vintage opium. Do i dare? Will i be able to stomach it now? Will it make me throw up a week's worth of lunch or will it suddenly sing to me the way i had always hoped it would one day.. To my delight, it was the latter. This is stunning! Wich ofcourse i already knew. But this time around i am wearing it and not the other way around. This only moderatly bipolar pinup queen preserved her fangs whilst embracing her soft feminine nature and the contrast is alluring to say the least. This got me curious about the bath oil, wich appears to actually be an extrait in disguise. I will order myself a bottle of that and maybe place an update once we are acquainted. Update on the bath oil: To my delight, the oil is even better then the EDP. The bitter rusty undertones that the edp contains aren't present in the oil and even though it is labeled as a bath oil it isn't as soapy as the EDP either. It's darker, warmer, thicker, more oily and more balsamic. It's easier to love because of it in my opinion. There are no particular sharp edges that might hurt you yet it is equally as strong. I already know that if i ever run out of youth dew, i would sooner repurchase the oil over the EDP. Don't let the fact that this is a bath oil weird you out. This is an extrait like any other. Just dab wherever you would like it to project.