Dries Van Noten par Frederic Malle

A gourmand hymn to sandalwood... Dries Van Noten is the first in a series of "portraits" by Frédéric Malle of people he admires. In this case, the eponymous Belgian fashion designer. This was actually made as a huge "thank you" note to the designer, who supported Frédéric Malle by selling his fragrances in his store in Antwerp from the very beginning. He also uses an unconventional yet very warm and human touch in terms of fashion style (he famously said he would never make a piece of clothing which could never be sold in a store, so no "haute couture" or "exclusive" collections like most other big fashion labels), and that was also something that Malle admired. In this creation, Malle's "perfume portrait" of the designer, he took inspiration from the designer's hometown, Antwerp, and the (Flemish) culture of northern Belgium. Essentially, Frédéric Malle here created a sandalwood composition, because sandalwood is warm and inviting when used in perfumes (it's often considered a "second skin" type of scent), and that sandalwood is boosted with vanilla, lots of it, and musk, saffron, jasmine, bergamot and cashmeran , a synthetic molecule which smells like slightly woody, musky human skin (this was used quite a lot in Frédéric Malle's other release Dans Tes Bras, a fragrance which literally translates as " in your arms "). So what do I get from it? Well, to me it comes across as a borderline gourmandish, (very) creamy sandalwood, vanilla, saffron, jasmine, bergamot musk combination. In fact, it has a touch of Shalimar (the jasmine, vanilla & bergamot combination). But to me it's more creamy than Shalimar (it's actually closer to Samsara in my opinion), it's a lot like a pastry. Which makes sense, because Malle also drew inspiration from the sights and smells of Belgium, including it's food. Food such as waffles, crêpes, and biscuits. I find this a very warm and inviting fragrance, the sandalwood here is extremely authentic (Malle lists it as Mysore Sandalwood but it's actually Indian Sandalwood (name: santalum album) grown in Australia ). This is not a synthetic sandalwood substitute, this is the real stuff, but obviously enhanced with other synthetic ingredients such as Sacrasol which Malle describes as "an ingredient halfway between sandalwood and vanilla", and ethyl-maltol which is an ingredient used in many gourmand fragrances (ie the "candy" note in Thierry Mugler's Angel ). I think if you like you're scents warm, rich and comforting, you'll like this one. If you like a gourmand twist to fragrances, you'll like this also. It's strong, as in it lasts a long time (8-10 hours on skin, and even lasts weeks on clothes), but it sits very close to the skin after the first 2 hours. But that's a good thing, as the natural sandalwood, musk and vanilla compliments the skin beautifully and really makes it come alive. In my opinion this is a perfect one for cuddling with someone on the sofa by the fire. Perfect in cooler weather, with a wool or cashmere sweater. It's very "comfy" in warm and sexy way. Some people have labelled this a "safe" fragrance from Frédéric Malle (who is known for making "unconventional" fragances), but I think this is worth the price alone mainly because of the (very) authentic sandalwood oil concentration, and the way it is used in this perfume (and Malle always uses high concentrations of natural raw ingredients in his perfumes - for example the Vetiver in Vétiver Extraordinaire , or the Tuberose in Carnal Flower ). It should be on your list if you live in a place with cool weather as I think this works great on those warm, indoor settings by the fire, with a loved one by your side. I don't see this as a disappointment, I see this as another great creation from Frédéric Malle, this is a gourmand hymn to sandalwood... and I love it!

Frederic Malle’s brand collaborations thus far have resulted in some of his oddest perfumes to date in my opinion, and, just as curious from my perspective, they are perfumes I end up having a love-hate relationship with. Acne Studios... actually, I’m not going to bring that up. His collaboration with Alber Elbaz, composed by Dominique Ropion, resulted in Superstitious. Some days this is a powerfully confident jasmine sandalwood that I adore, other days I want nothing to do with it. My feeling towards Dries van Noten par Frederic Malle, composed by Bruno Jovanovic, is precisely the same; some days this is a strikingly weird but highly enjoyable saffron woody gourmand, other days a grating and synthetic mess. With my tastes this is not a surprise for a Jovanovic composition, but it is surprising with a Ropion composition. So what have a perfume editor and a very divisive perfumer done to make we waffle so much? The opening is beautiful. Lemon juice and bitter green bergamot zest are sprinkled over a delightful Arabian dish fragrant with cool woody, hay like and floral saffron and a light brown and spicy patchouli. This strikes me as the funky and slightly citrusy aroma coming off of hot and spice-parched Arabian rice, because soon after this spicy saffron and citrusy steam departs the milky and nutty aspects, also slightly reinforcing Arabian rice, lay on very thick in the heart layer from sulfurol. Jasmine indole plays a major role as well, amplifying the dry floral notes of the saffron. This is where the perfume starts to lose me on days when it does lose me, since this heart layer begins an overtly synthetic and immiscible character that continues to the end of the perfume. It is gourmand with the sulfurol and patchouli, but not. It is floral from the jasmine indole, but not. It is woody from the sandalwood, but not. The latter seems to exist as a natural material with its sour cream type quality, green woody, and light floral facets. However, it has been adulterated so much by the sulfurol the sour lactonic quality of the sandalwood is barely noticeable, the jasmine indole do the same to the floral note, and the patchouli to the spicy and green woody notes. Then, just to make sure the demur and gentle sandalwood gets one last firm punch to knock the wind from its lungs comes a candied vanilla note. There the perfume stays for the rest of its time on skin. Utterly bizarre. Some days it’s like an extraterrestrial’s idea of what a human’s gourmand perfume smells like, other days too foreign to even be extraterrestrial; some days exotic and appetite satisfying, other days a disaster in an Arabian bakery. Numerous people have smelled this on me, and from the ones I actively solicit an opinion from, what usually follows their focused sniffs of my arm or wrist is usually a “hmm” and a very quizzical look. “I mean it smells really nice... I think... but... what the heck is it?” My standard response, honestly and still to this day after owning the perfume for many years, is “I don’t know.”

I didn't even think that I wanted the sample I was offered when I tried it at the counter. I sprayed some of it on the samples box. could only smell this flat vanilla thing (that often appears in "light" vanillas (heliotropin and violet/iris molecules maybe) and next, a sharp dentist-like smell (citrus, safran, tonka) caused immediate turn-away. a day after, something delicious wafts around me. sniffing, it took me some time to realize that it was the samplebox of "dries" in my drawer. oh...how different than yesterday! I didn't find anything disturbing any more...it has also been a colder day... the opening is a quite sharp&flat lemon+safran combo of which the lemon quickly fades and the tonka grows...safran stays the whole way through it gets deeper, after some hours it kind of "opens up" and dry spices add themselves and jasmin lends it a floral part. and it doesn't end up in a sweet musky-smoky vanilla base that is so typical for many gourmands but leaves you with delicate traces of patchouli. ok, it is still a sweet perfume, but it has personality, class and never gets boring through its different stages. maybe not 100% original, more cosy and familiar (give it some time!) but even worth trying for people who weren't excited by the notes...like me:-) again a malle, that I'd really like to add as a FB. ps.: having some beautiful dries van noten pieces, I find it's not very much recalling van noten-designs...I would have imagined something with strong incense or something wickedly spicy, but, oh well, I wear it with my snuggly westwood silk pants.

Warm milk. Kulfi Saffron ice cream, sweet, honey milk, gentle soft sandalwood as i remember it pre-1979, when sandalwood smelled good. Makes me think of my children when they were newborn, soft and gentle baby breath, warm, angora soft and lovely. Also a gentle scent of my mother's home made rice pudding, milk, nutmeg and a scattering of sultanas. There's a deep memory of a patisserie in Perpignan where I partook of something custardy and delightful. Some of the best fragrances evoke emotional responses, and this fragrance evokes many. All of them wrapped in pure love and comfort. The residual tail end of Dries Van Noten, 12 hours after application, uncannily resembled the first spray of Avon's Far Away on my skin, but who expects 12 hours peak performance from a perfume anyway and between application and then, it is just wonderful. I did apply a couple of sprays before bedtime in the bathroom, and when I went back into the bathroom the next morning, the scent was still in there, strong, and unchanged, so it's my skin that changes it. Liberally dousing myself with this on a late summer/early autumn day in England was probably something of a mistake. Every hungry, drunken wasp in the county made a bee line for my delicious, sweet scent. Stop press; my adult daughter hugged me today and said; "mum, something you've got on smells of grandma". I was on the right track then. It's lovely, it evokes love and tenderness, and that's all I need to know.

I can’t verbalise how lovely this perfume really smells to me. Perhaps because my nose isn’t as trained or that I can’t quite pick apart its multi-layered structure like the connoisseur I wish I was... All I know is that it has everything I could ever want in a perfume. Possibly my favourite fragrance and holds a forever spot in my fragrance collection. A lactonic start that almost takes you aback - heavy with the saffron, nutmeg and patchouli (mind you, I’m using the notes as a guide), settling into its woodier counter parts (on my skin, the peru balsam and cloves), only to transcend into a soapy yet creamy vanilla - with something more. When I close my eyes, and this is why I can truly connect with DVN as fragrance - I can visualise myself in a place of comfort, somewhere familiar and tangible - despite myself never having been. The places also change. For example, it’s snowing heavily outside but I’m tucked away in a blanket fort constructed with draping blankets, musty yet gathered with the smell of a hundred nights’ sleep, the other; a Christmas market littered with wooden stalls wafting with the aroma of delightful, warm, freshly baked pastries and confections. It also has a special place in my heart because it is my first niche fragrance. Though I sang praises of it, the longevity is not amazing - but I love it so so much that I don’t care.