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.

Wear Test: Youth-Dew EDP (2023-new formulation version—Batch A23) The Velvet Tempest; Finally Wearable, but Respect the Power "As a long-time collector of vintage extraits and Sophia Grojsman 'hugs,' I always had a complicated relationship with the original Youth-Dew. My husband had gifted me a bottle of the 1953 version for Christmas one year, and in my heart as I looked upon that gift box, I knew I would never be able to wear it with reckless abandon. I found the vintage YD too 'chewy,' oily, and frankly, too heavy for a modern woman in her 30s to pull off easily. It literally made me nauseous as I tried to wear it to show my husband that I appreciated his kind gesture. Fast forward to the 2023 reformulation version (Batch A23) that I now own, and it has been an absolute mind-changing revelation for me. If the vintage version was a ton of bricks, this modern EDP had morphed into a velvety, silk veil. What I realized was that this re-born beauty had successfully captured the soft, airy texture of the vintage Youth-Dew dusting powder—the version of YD that was always the most romantic, sensible and easiest to wear. The 'bones' of the original YD remained, but the acrid, 'screechy' spices had been power-washed away and in their place was now a gorgeous, sparkling Mandarin orange and a much cleaner Dry Wood base. It is now smooth, sophisticated, and finally feels like it belongs in modern times and that it appeals to a much larger audience. (M/F 30 years and older, and of all things, office friendly!) Now I want to offer a word of caution to my fellow fragrance over-sprayers: Do not let the 'softness' fool you! I recently stress-tested this re-formulation by purposefully over-applying. I want to assure you that this Modern YD, even though it is soft and velvety, still remains a powerhouse. The mandarin and velvet notes can become cloying and 'headache-inducing' if you don't meter your use. Treat it with the respect you'd give the vintage YD parfum—2 sprays are plenty to keep you in that gorgeous, spicy glow all day. This re-formulated version of Youth-Dew is a hidden gem that Youth-Dew purists call 'ruined,' but to my nose, it’s exactly what Youth-Dew should have been all along, an easy reach and an easy, non-offensive wear. Final note: I believe that Fragrantica should have a new listing created for this new version of Youth-Dew as the notes are not the same and they smell vastly different from each other.

I was surprised to be hit by big aldehydes on the opening of this one, only because I remember it differently. My decant EDP is vintage, but I am not sure what vintage. I was gifted a sample of this by my grandmother - no more than ten ml - in the late 70s, when I was a tween. It lasted for years, and I loved it. It is what introduced me to perfume. As so many people have noted, Youth Dew shares DNA with YSL Opium; it is in fact the mother of Opium. But it is bridging the world that discovered aldehydes at the turn of the century, best represented by Chanel No. 5, and the era of Studio 54. Now I imagine my grandmother discovering this scent in 1953, in her 40s and at the height of her mature sexiness - (she, like my mother, was stunning) - but also of her complication. I think this is a good way to describe Youth Dew: sexy and complicated. Sniffing it now as a middle-aged adult is interesting. It starts with big aldehydes and a mix of florals. After about an hour, I start to get the spice, cinnamon primarily, and orange. There is a dark, resinous chord vibrating deep in the background, and over time, the spice and balsams creep forward. And there is that Coca-Cola note that I remember and love so well. I'm not usually a florals person; I prefer woody and resinous scents. But the florals that emerge in Youth Dew are hypnotic, not "stinky", which is how I often perceive heavy, indolic tuberose, for example. The notes say narcissus, and I am getting gardenia. These, in judicious amounts, are delicious, heady, animalic, even. This may be why, though many people experience Youth Dew as an "old lady perfume", just as many people spray a puff on their arms and say, out loud or to themselves, "sexxxyyyy!" I guess it depends on what kind of girl (or boy) you are. It's like when Hurby "Luv Bug" Azor emcees the prelude to Salt-N-Pepa's "Push It", announcing, “This dance ain’t for everybody - only the sexy people”. Well, you know who you are. Now, after a few hours, a lady in sumptuous, dark furs (sorry!) emerges in the half-light. Spice, resins, lime and cola fully present, (and can that be a very slight patchouli note?). It is like walking at night down a dimly lit passageway toward a balcony off a ballroom full of murmured conversation, leaning down and inhaling the creamy, narcotic scent of blossoms below while glasses of red wine and Madeira clink behind you.

"This smells like an old lady." Let's unpack that statement. Old people, "OK boomer," "they ruined things for us," "let them rot." My, when the pendulum swings, we see this inverse shift into ageism that is unsettling, especially as I enter my mid 40s. There was a magnificent, concise article last year from Jane Daly (Eau de Jane) in Harper's Bazaar, "In Defense of 'Old Lady Perfumes'" and it's essential reading. Is this really a harmless descriptor? It seems more like a warning. We all will age, and with that aging comes letting go of hang ups, blessings of seeing what is most essential in life, and the wisdom that can be passed on to youth. Yes, wisdom, not ignorance, and I think that's what might set us Xennials and Gen-Xers apart is that as we enter middle age, we know full well that our elders, as problematic as they might seem in some of their views, are not two-dimensional: we are a product of our generations. Let that sink in and learn to forgive. As far as fragrances from the past, especially that of Youth Dew, the unfairly lambasted so-called relic, wearing this obviously will seem as though we are out-of-step with the times, but then again, the general populace might feel the same for that Oriza L. Legrand, Parfum d'Empire, Les Indemodables for which you are devoted. We fragheads are truly a rare species, but our purview of fragrance is totally distorted. We have to tolerate that we are esoteric as a philately or geocaching and will not change the mind of society, but we can educate and gain insight from each other as a community. Be that as it may, Youth Dew may be a challenge for even the majority of fragheads, unless you give into the powder, the moss, the resins, the musk, and remove yourself from any other associations. Youth Dew, even in recent formulations, has a potency in its steeped in fizzy cola tolu balsam, spicy-warm hugs and smooches, and cinnamon candy from a loving hand. It doesn't feel out of place at all to wear this on my skin: its ability to spark so many memories and sensations makes it worth its weight in gold.

This was the fragrance that most women around around me would wear for special occasions when I was growing up in the sixties . It is probably considered a grandma fragrance by young omen these days. In my opinion , it still smells authentic ( not synthetic ) and chic . I was raised in the sixties in Texas by my sweet and uneducated grandma who took me in though she rode the bus to her warehouse job in downtown Dallas ( wearing stockings and a girdle and dress with NO AIR CONDITIONING ) . I was fortunate not to realize that we were rather poor compared to many of my peers. Though my grandma rode the bus , she knew how to gussy herself up for an event . Before she put on her corset ( yes a real pink custom made corset ) she bathed and put on Cashmere Bouquet talc under her corset . After she got her body into the corset and dress, she got out her bottle of Youth Dew bath oil . She would put about four drops in the palm of her hand and then sprinkle a few drops of water with it and rub it on her neck and wrists . The fragrance would last well all day , even during a scorching summer. My grandmother used the bath oil, which was affordable for her , to make a perfume . This allowed her to smell classy even on a shoestring budget . Guess what ! I am now her age and still wear it sometimes and I mix a few drops of YD with a few drops of Tojours Moi , and it gets many compliments . I will never be without a bottle of the oil and the spray . If you want a luxurious bath, put a few drops in your tub. The fragrance will literally linger a couple of days . Even better, get a bottle of neutrogena body oil and add some YD bath oil drops to it . Then every day after your bath you will smell like incense and rich spices ( like the old version of YSL Opium that would last ) all day . That is my favorite way to use the super rich body oil . I hope there will be other women who give this beauty a chance because it has the smell of incense , which is rich and head turning .

Youth-Dew Estée Lauder, EDP (USD 25, Pre 1980 bottle, 1.5 oz) I have a chance to meet 2 bottles of Youth-Dew by Estee. Both are around the same price. I ordered both. One already arrived but the nozzle is broken. I tried squeezing very hard in right angle. So I experience this already (while wait a 2nd bottle arrived). I believe it is 1970-1980. As the bottle is not introduced Barcode and Batch code is not indicated it must be older one. It also show old estee logo on outside of the box. And the nozzle is trash... As I recent open Tabu by Dana. These Spicy - Ambered Infused with Civet. Must be really a thing in 70's. Along with the happiness from bath oil. When you get out of the water. You smell skin soft spices. And Musky by the civet. It must be so sensational. The spices and the Musk, slight sour that closer to the skin. Enhance the natural femininity idea of an era. It's sexy. To think people smell like this, Imaginary fantasy. Start working all over again but also everyone smell the same. It is a perfume that works enhances how body work. Shocking by Schiaparelli. something like that. Now the idea of Fragrance is different as we discover more molecules. We can create the scent that we never smell before. But at the same time, didn't work along with body. In the same time, it is repeated patterns. To create Charm. It just different scent idea of Charm. Even, It still personally fan-boy the Civet over Ambrox and Ethyl-Motal. If my assumption is correct. My quest for vintage end here. Santa Maria Novella and Le Jardin Retrouve will be kept hunting. While, Vintage Mitsouko will be marked, an end of era. Ms. Estee must be smart (assumingly) as she knows the core. Element how to smell nice of that time. The Charm is a sell. Thank you Ms. Estee. Extension 2 : July 16, 2025 The 2nd bottle arrived and luckily the nossel is working. Spray it when you need a lighter day. it help.

The score this perfume receives from Fragranticans is, I think, more of a comment on their ignorance than the scent itself. And the reviewer below me (whose review will not survive long) claims it smells of piss. If so, she is strangely both blessed and cursed. If her piss smells like this, she should sell it - and see a doctor. But it strikes me as a foolish approach to reviewing for a perfume such as this. Certainly, if you're coming from the last 10-20 years of food-based scents, or easy florals, and you suddenly encounter a scent drenched in 3000 years of classical perfumery, one option the reviewer has is to wrinkle their nose and make comments about piss (reviewers of men's scents often say "urinal cake" for scents they don't like or understand). The same would be true if you went from EL James, or Richard and Judy Book Club recommendations to Shakespeare or Homer. It'd seem bizarre and inaccessible. And a common reaction in situations like this is anger or frustration. Here, we see that played out. This scent is driven by balsams - resinous tree saps, the types of stuff the Magi brought to Jesus (allegedly). It is heady and powerful. These balsams are amplified by woody spices like clove and cinnamon. These spices were what drove much of the age of exploration, the tantalising prize which made Portuguese, Dutch and English sailors in the 16th and 17th centuries risk their lives to obtain - and initiating globalisation while they did so. So this scent is built around olfactory cornerstones of our civilisation. You might not like it - that's fine. But your preferences (or mine) do not make it a good or bad perfume. People, please review perfumes on here, not your own feelings. Otherwise, you basically just present as a toddler throwing a tantrum because there's cabbage on their plate, and then presenting as if you'd just "reviewed" it.

Where to start. Youth Dew is an absolute masterclass in 20th century perfumery. It starts out loudly with a punch of dry patchouli, Indian, I believe, and spices. It is unapologetic. The balsams quickly step up and briefly stand in front of the patchouli and spices. Next, the amber grabs these loud notes from behind and pulls them back down while that classic Coca-Cola syrup oozes out and spreads out like syrup over pancakes. After some time, the benzoin becomes apparent with an almost diaper cream warmth and sweetness. And then the vanilla. This is not a modern vanilla. This is a rich, dry and spicy vanilla, melted ice cream with a hint of incense. Remember. I said a DRY vanilla. Old fashioned and sophisticated. Not even remotely related to today's gourmonds. Eventually, on my skin at least, I'm left with a talc-like warmth that is a bit sweet and smokey. Not powdery. Like talc in its rock form. Smooth, soft and warm. If you are a fan of the 20th century, amber bombs and Orientals, Youth Dew will not disappoint. And if you already love Josephine and Estee's brilliant composition, get the bath oil. It came first, after all. Estee was a brilliant marketer. For those of us who know, with the right level of application, Youth Dew can be worn year round. And if you are new to exploring vintage Orientals, start with something easier like the lovely and soft, cola heavy Toujours Moi. If that works for you, something like Tabu or the incense heavy, smokey Revlon Ciara might be appropriate. Though be warned, Tabu's civet might be a bit of a shock. Cinnabar and Obsession would be next and then you might be ready for the original Opium and Youth Dew. Youth Dew is an experience. It's a type of woman who knows exactly who she is and what she wants. No need for insults. It just makes one seem immature.

This was one of my Grandma's favourites, it was a constant fragrance around our home and hers in the 80s when l was a child. l love the scent, not only because it reminds me of her, but because its a really good underrated scent. I have never tried to break down the notes in this perfume but since joining fragrantica l do that with every perfume l have or buy now. I was surprised to see the whopping ingredient list to this perfume, loads of notes go into creating this gorgeous juice. I get oriental, spicy, soapy, touch of vanilla, smokey, French expensive talcum powder, vibes to this but l cant detect the cinnamon and wish l could, l get a bit of Cinnabar and Opium in this fragrance which were also some of Grandmas favourites, and l was surprised to see coca cola in the list but now l know its in there l can really smell it and the bottle looks like an old coca cola glass bottle from a million years ago. These perfumiers must go round the earth like police drug detection dogs sniffing literally everything in their path and throwing random things they've come across in daily life into the mix that you would never think would be in a perfume its quite fascinating how their noses and minds work. That must be where its dark brown colour comes from. Its definitely not a sweet fruity girly perfume, its a beast of a spicy make an impression, grown up fragrance. Its name seems wrong for the fragrance though, as Youth Dew to me suggests something light and fruity like Vera Wang or soft and vanilla dreamy with a touch of sweet floral, not this strong oriental smokey adult spice bomb. I adore this, im so glad they still make it, my Grandma knew how to make an impression and was fearless in her fragrance choices much like me. Thanks Grandma for introducing me to this lovely fragrance. ❤️

This is an absolute love for me – largely for the nostalgia factor – but it does also smell very nice to my nose. When I was younger (a teenager?) my late uncle got this for me from a trip to the USA – at the time, I lived in a hot and humid country. I absolutely hated the perfume. In respect, I wonder what my uncle was thinking, getting such a young child this mature fragrance – but then, he was much older, and he always tried to spoil his nieces and nephews. Perhaps in the colder climate when he tested it, it smelled soapy and clean, and I imagine the sales assistant reassuring him that it was “classic“ and perfect for a gift, not knowing that it was for a younger person who would think it smelled “mature“ Especially in the human climate, it smelled of incense and spices – I still wore it, just because I had it. I recently wanted to try it out of nostalgia, and I vaguely remembered that it smelled quite nice. I’m older now, and live in a colder/temperate climate. Now, the Aldihydes really bloom in this one. It smells soapy and clean. I can understand the reviewer who thinks that this is appropriate to wear everywhere, because of the soapy/clean smell. However, I still get that hint of incense and spices – it smells exotic and perfume like, and I would probably not wear it to most places. It’s just too attention grabbing in my opinion. I’m mostly at that phase of life where I’d rather smell “just clean/fresh/nice” rather than “perfumey” I will wear it around the house however. I wouldn’t mind my kids thinking that this is what mum smells like and it’s clean and exotic and attractive. Because of the nostalgia it smells sort of soothing to me as well. I will probably always keep a bottle of this. edit: asked hubby what he thought and he loved it.

This (like most of my perfume purchases) was a blind buy and it wasn't really what I was expecting, but I like what I got even more than what I was expecting. The first thing I thought upon opening the box was that the bottle is just magnificent. It's so elegant and pretty, definitely the best-looking bottle out of all of the fragrances I own. I wouldn't call this an "old lady perfume" (although I really don't like that label) but it does remind me of my grandma, though I can't quite put my finger on why. What my nose picks up is quite a bit of the aldehydes, the powderiness, some of the Coca-Cola scent, and obviously the spices. It all blends so well together. Even though I have no idea why it reminds me of my grandmother (I'm certain she did not wear this), every time I smell it I can feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes because it instantly transports me to sunny fall afternoons spent in my grandparents' house or in the woods surrounding it, with shafts of sunlight peeking through the orange leaves. I can so vividly picture days spent at the museum or shopping downtown. For as long as I can remember, I've had this concept in my mind of the smell of "someone else's house," which I can never really describe except by saying that the scent literally just makes me feel like I'm at (you guessed it) someone else's house. It's just a pleasant scent. When I wear Youth Dew, the smell, for some reason, makes me feel like I'm getting a hug from that "someone else" and for those few moments I'm enveloped in this really nice, comforting scent of soap and spices and powder and smoke.

Very spicy, very intense. But also fluffy and warmly sweet And i am very intimate with it as well, knowing her since i was a young teenager, or earlier perhaps. But i only came to realize fairly recently, as in half an hour ago, that this scent had a name: Youth Dew. Omg it has a coca cola note, yes, i can totally take it out of my olfactive memory of this scent. How absolutely delightful!!!! My grandmother owned this little perfume as a solid balm. In a little gold rope design case with a turquoise sphere in the middle on top. When i was as young as i was when i discovered this tiny treasure-trove, i was always very conflicted but somehow addicted to the scented balm inside. Putting my index finger on the surface to take a little bit of the balm and rub/dot it on my wrists. Constantly sniffing and thinking, jeeeee this is strong. But i kept going back for more. While subconsciously weaving this scent to my grandmother's memory. ♥ I liked the casing perhaps more than the perfume at the time. :) And so today I'm wearing obsession by CK on the fabric of a long sleeved top, because i wanted to enjoy the green and spicy opening notes a bit longer (and found they last longer on fabric), and i suddenly remembered the little perfume case, and that there was Estee Lauder written on the inside of the top lid and connected it to Youth Dew. Researched it quick just to be sure. A fond memory, an intriguing scent, the strongest i know. The most mature too. BIG love. And while i discovered in the meantime CK Obsession is not for me, Youth Dew IS 😊💖

Gorgeous, deep, resinous & powerful. Spicy and incredibly unique in today's market. It's got so many notes which together - form something truly magical. As a very little girl, I would sometimes get the opportunity of a sneaky spritz from my mums' or her friends' ( who was very a well heeled, business woman) bottles of perfumes. My favourites at that time were OG Opium and Coco. I felt invincible wearing them - grown and sophisticated - imagining what it might be like to be rich and shop in posh shops. Fast forward a couple of decades and I have searched and searched, to no avail... To find the perfume which would offer me that cloak of invincibility ..... To find the one which makes me feel strong and confident - like I did back then, in my early teens, swaggering about, leaving a trail of spice and money lol! I found it.... Right here - - in this spice bomb of magnificence 👍 I am blown away! Don't listen to all the snooty reviews describing it as 'old lady/grandma' etc - It IS vintage and 'different' by today's standards BUT - it is wonderful and as a bonus - not that many people are wearing this scent profile nowadays so you absolutely will stand out in a sea of sickly sweet pudding type smells. Anyone who says I smell like 'old folks home' can kiss my sweet smelling arse as I smoke them at the traffic lights whilst they're still trying to find 1st gear in their Prius! 😎 Vavavoom! Lasts ages - only 2 puffs and you're good to go for the day and night! A perfect 10/10

I’m in my 40s and my grandmother wore this perfume my entire life. I can remember disliking it as a child. I didn’t think it smelled bad, but was more mature than the Electric Youth and Malibu Musk I was into at the time. I lost my grandmother two days ago. I picked this fragrance up to wear to her upcoming service. The first sniff flooded my mind with a lifetime of memories. This gorgeous, chic and deep, incensy, sweet fragrance is synonymous, for me, with unconditional love. This is the scent of carefree weekends at the lake house, banana milkshakes on sick days. This is the scent of the excitement of going to work with my grandmother or relaxing after school in her living room. This is the scent of a woman who gives selflessly and tirelessly, and in more ways than we knew how to be grateful for. This is elegance and class. It’s warmth and forgiveness. It’s every family gathering, Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas morning. This is the scent of comforting hugs, playing with makeup and grits for breakfast when it’s cold out. This is the sliced bananas added to my cereal and the sweet sound of hearing “Hey, Babe” by the only acceptable substitute in my mom’s absence. There is just nothing more beautiful than this. I’m a fragrance collector and own lots of beautiful scents. This, though. This is the feeling I’ve been looking for every time I’ve ever anointed my own skin. This is real art.

I have finally tested Youth Dew and... I am a wee bit baffled why this scent is so controversial. Is it vintage? Abso-flippin-lutely. Vintage to its bones, this is *not* a fruity floral. It is not candy floss and fake musk. But nuclear? Edgy? Difficult? Maybe if you were born in the late 90s and have never smelled real perfumes. I'm scratching my head. I was expecting a BOMB. And this is... lovely. Seriously. If you like vintage Coco (I love her, only thing I own backup bottles of) you'll like this. Is it spicy: yes. Is it rich and deep: yes. If you stick your nose to your wrist where you sprayed it will it be powerful: YES, fragrance isn't *meant* to be so weak you NEED to do that. You could over do this, yes. And maybe that's the issue. Folks used to fragrances so weak they must be sprayed multiple times to be smelled could easily over do this and gas themselves and their friends/relatives. But I own and wear vintage fragrances and this is... right in line. ONE good spray on your chest under clothing and you'll radiate a lovely warm scent all day. (This is how my grandmother taught us to wear fragrance.) Two if you want folks to smell you wafting past. I find this warm, gently spicy, and well enough blended to not pick anything in particular out. My bottles are vintage. If you find the vintage too loud try the modern batch and remember: start small you can always spray MORE.

I remembered Youth Dew, back when I was less experienced with perfume, as a spicy, warm balsamic Oriental. And it *is* that, but what I’m noticing most this time around is how floral it is and how much air there is in the middle. It goes on with a boozy, bright-brown slug of ambers and resins, and keeps on buzzing with warming autumnal spices and a crackle of incense —really on the dry side as things go. But the heart of Youth Dew is really this lovely complex vintage swirl of aldehydes and florals. It’s regal. Queenly. But perfectly approachable and grounded. A Demeter fragrance. It makes me feel like a grown-up lady with a full life. The core, bright-brown, spice-and-aldehyde scent chord is distinctive and hard to place — I think of it somehow as the olfactory equivalent of a French horn. It sings out; it’s bright but with some richness and solemnity. it’s got a bit of a cognac or whiskey quality. And then there’s a soft cloud of flowers trailing underneath it. A lot of people can’t tolerate Youth Dew because it’s strong and it *does* smell like your grandmother (if your grandmother was American and around in the 1950s.) It’s very much a feminine scent, also; my guy friends who experimented with it uniformly found it unwearable. But I love it. It *is* strong; it’s warming, invigorating, fortifying. And it packs a dose of vintage glamour.