Une Fleur de Cassie

Malle’s vision of giving us perfumes of the past redone by today’s masters for today’s world wasn’t just a mandate, one gets the feeling it was an insatiable drive - he had to do it or he could not live. It’s therefore not a surprise how much he focused on florals at his brand’s launch and for the years to come, given that modern perfumery’s life has been dominated by florals, and he succeeded in his raison d’etre. Where he didn’t quite follow through on this vision seems to be Une Fleur de Cassie, which is in my top favorite Malle perfumes and yet also high on the list of ones I wear the least (for some reason). It is one of the most criminally under-appreciated perfumes from the brand, and I think that’s because there’s nothing modern about it. This is the big, grand, symphonic floral Malle seems to think was missing from yesteryear when big, grand, symphonic florals were the perfumes to make. It is decidedly and confidently old school. The Cassie Flower is also doing a lot more than giving us the scent from the humble sweet acacia plant. Why it is named this, I don’t quite understand, since sweet acacia is just one section of this massive symphony. One experience everyone should have at least once in their life is to sniff a proper flower bouquet built by a master florist. A master florist will build a bouquet to a precise vision: the arrangement will be visually striking, each flower placed in a precise location; the flowers are of the highest quality and chosen for their ability to contrast with each other and work in tandem to deliver an overall accord; the number of flowers of each type determined very judiciously to make sure the accord of the bouquet has the proper balance. That is Une Fleur de Cassie. Like a bouquet by a master florist, Dominique Ropion has created what might be his signature bouquet - yes, POAL lovers, I honestly think this might be the best perfume he’s done for Malle. Perhaps why it’s called Une Fleur de Cassie is to emphasize different aspects of Vachellia farnesiana via other florals. Sweet acacia is a funny little flower. Acacia bark is often used as a tannin ingredient for leather, and makes good dark inks; it’s high in protein and a great forage food; it smells honeyed, yellow floral like mimosa, and a touch balsamic. So, dear reader, the odds of me getting all of these complex notes/accords of the perfume identified, and correctly attaching them to an aspect of sweet acacia, is a daunting task very low in probability. At the top there are plenty of yellow and white florals, what seem to be acacia, mimosa, jasmine, and maybe lily or carnation. It’s heavily aldehydic, but the effervescence and sparkle is tempered by the deeper honey notes that each of the florals naturally carry in spades. An interesting note of cumin, quite mild but nonetheless still sweaty and dirty, strings from the top into the heart to link up with sweet acacia’s deeper and more animalic and musky qualities thanks to roses and violets. Finally at the base are evocations of sweet acacia’s deepest and darkest notes thanks to musks, vanilla, and the balsams of cedar and sandalwood. I said something at the beginning, symphonic, that I need to call back to. When an amazing orchestra is dialed-in and ready in a perfect venue, the bass section reverberates the walls and your seat, the middle frequencies make your flesh and bones tingle, and the treble rings in your ears into your teeth. With Une Fleur de Cassie, these orchestral sections are playing the chord of the cassie flower - yellow, honeyed, animalic, and balsamic floral - loud and clear in a sound check to make sure they don’t blow your eardrums out, but that the walls and seats still reverberate, your flesh and teeth still tingle, and your ears ring. I’ve failed you, dear reader. All of these incredible materials and notes overlap with each other so seamlessly that I’m finding it nearly impossible to detect where one begins and the other ends. But that’s the point, I think. For me to sit here, in my plush chair studying this perfume on my skin and a blotter, is reductive. Just enjoy it. The symphonic orchestra needs all of its sections. The bouquet has been put together by a master florist as a work of art, but you’re still going to give it to someone you love who doesn’t know that, who is going to give it a big sniff and maybe not recognize the mastery but will certainly recognize the exquisite beauty, and look back at you with loving and warmed eyes in thanks for giving them the experience and the thought. That’s the part that matters. For being able to dissect a sweet acacia flower, and reconstruct it in a way that gives us not only olfactory beauty but emotional beauty as well, Une Fleur de Cassie is one of if not the best in the Malle line.

Une Fleur de Cassie, composed by Dominique Ropion for Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle, and part of the original lineup since 2000. What a perfume! To me, this is a masterwork floral composition. A piece of olfactory art that needs to be studied and looked upon by all future generations of perfumers. There is so much emotion embodied in this creation. Retro, and old-world smelling. It plays on the duality of love. The maternal love, and the one of your lover. Mimosa and violet are used to suggest the first, cassie flower, jasmine, and musks for the latter. Cumin acts as a bridge, to instill the carnal embodiment, and breathe life into it. For me, these two themes are always suggested and interplay at all times. Ropion doesn't just create a perfect animalistic floral, he roots deep visceral emotions to it. The opening is an assault on one's senses. The juxtaposition of cumin, violet leaf, cassie, and musks emerges to create a salty, wet cardboard accord. Brutal right from the get-go and unlike anything else. It is curious, and so you keep on sniffing. It soon tames down to reveal the floral bouquet. Yellow strokes on an Oriental canvas. Mimosa and cassie flowers dominate the floral cortege. They are related, both in smell and appearance. But just like the maternal and your beloved, they call to different emotions of belonging. I adore the Cassie Flower absolute. It is among my favorite floral materials in perfumery. Unfortunately, there are very few compositions making use of it. And none like this one. It smells much like mimosa but everything is amplified, especially the animalistic quality. Heated love. The scent of your beloved's sweaty-salty skin. The base is infused with a generous amount of sandalwood, vanilla, and musk to complete the Oriental theme, and to provide extra warmth. A scent of deep mystery and lust. A perfume for introverted intellectuals with a dirty mind. Unfortunately, this perfume seems to generate polarizing reactions, and for reasons beyond me, it flies under the radar among others from the house. To make things worse, over the years Lauder took care to cut off some of its flair. Nonetheless, in my books, this will always be Ropion's most artistic work, his diamond in the rough for the bypassers and his most precious jewel for the true connoisseurs. IG:@memory.of.scents

This is like crawling into a hammock under some flowering trees and being breathed on by someone who's just spent the afternoon taking a really satisfying nap. It's totally uncanny and off the wall. I almost never want to wear another perfume again. EDIT: This is my favorite, I need to do a little bit better than the above... Une Fleur de Cassie is about real flowers still on the tree, and it spares no part of that experience. In real life, walking down a street lined with furiously blossoming trees can be overwhelming. Ask anyone with allergies or who has had their heart broken in the springtime. It's pervasive and over the top, and the person walking down this flowery street doesn't get to pick and choose which facet of this scent is currently blowing in their face. Flowers are sweet, but they are also about sex and death and pollen and synthesized weather systems and waste, and this is part of what they smell like. Anyone walking among a whole lot of blooming flowers must surrender fully to every part of the fragrance. UFdC is the same deal. I do not recommend spraying it if you are allergic to flowers or have just had your heart broken. The opening is a sharp, almost acrid burst of mimosa and white flowery sweetness. I do smell the wet cardboard thing, although not unpleasantly, along with some vanilla-inflected wintergreen or root-beeriness. Mostly, though, this is that walk down a springtime lane lined with heavily flowering trees. As it dries down, I smell sandalwood, and what's more I smell real mysore sandalwood, like in old bottles of Samsara. Don't ask me how that's possible; I don't know, but this is what it smells like to me. This sandalwood imparts a smooth oiliness that underscores the floral notes until it starts slowly sucking them under and into itself. What's left on the skin after a couple of hours is a wholly incorporated smooth-oily sweetness that smells unmistakably spent -- like flowers are spent after blooming, like bodies are spent after sex, like falling asleep is a surrender to a well-lived day. Obviously I love this, but I can see how it can be off putting to some. It doesn't smell like diapers or p**** to me, but it does smell like it knows its way around being embodied -- sex and decay and languor are part of its fierce beauty.

To understand Une Fleur de Cassie, it's prudent to make the distinction between the two acacia species used in perfumery. First, there is Acacia decurrens var. dealbata, the mimosa tree, with its clusters of yellow inflorescences. From this tree, the absolutes and extractions for the classic mimosa note are derived. However, there is another tree in the family, Acacia farnesiana, the Sweet Acacia (also known as Vachellia farnesiana and formerly known as Mimosa farnesiana, to make matters even more confusing). This tree has bright yellow pom-poms growing individually rather than in clusters. It is from this tree that Cassie absolute is extracted, and in Dominique Ropion's composition, it is rumored that it uses one of the highest percentages of the material in a modern perfume. Cassie absolute is one of my favorite perfume materials, mysterious, dark, complex, and quite tenacious. It displays a rich, radiant, honey-sweet, floral, powdery-spicy odor. Deep into the dry down, it mellows into a deep, balsamic, woody, violet-like note. Its arguably more unisex and "dirty" that its cousin Acacis decurens var. dealbata. It forms the crux of Caron's legendary Farnesiana, but here with Une Fleur, it is overdosed to a dramatic effect. The composition is one of myriad textures: powdery, dusty, creamy, unctuous, earthy. While the note is not listed, the cassie seems supported by narcissus, reminding me much of the curious scent of Narcissus poeticus. Pastel animalic violet and the slightest indolic jasmine are also detected, with a lingering pollen-like quality, reminding me of the thick, bright orange pollen on the anthers of a lily. The dry down has an ever more undulating texture and becomes muskier (on the verge of dirty drawers but not full-on) and more skin-complementary. Ropion clearly was given absolute artistic license to explore a material so unabashedly and unyieldingly, and the results are both thought-provoking and sensual. I do not find it at all challenging⁠—I am smitten with it, but I would hazard a guess that this is one is not for everyone. Be that as it may, every fragrance fanatic should give it a sniff if for nothing else, reference. A compelling and brilliant composition and my favorite from the Frederic Malle house.

First of all, like many perfumes on this site that for whatever reason someone chose to misrepresent, this perfume is a shared perfume for men and women alike according to the creator. Back about 15 years ago I bought Gal Violet soaps from the Duty Free shop at the Madrid airport and fell in love the the tart violetty sparkly andahydic scent which even their own violet perfume did not have and vowed that if I even found anything similar that would be my signature scent. Well, one sniff of Une Fleur de Cassie and it was clear I had found it. I have always been totally in love with the violet-orris ionene-irone smell but this smell is a fresher perkier and a but more tart of a scent. And it seems to have the sparkle of andehydes. To me if there were such thing as violet sweettarts this is what they would be like. From start to finish I find this perfume to be sweet in a effervescent and refreshingly clean and invigorating way. As a perfumer I know the overall effect is there as a result of mimosa, cassie, carnation, rose, sandalwood, black locust, vanilla and car rant leaves but I find they are so well blended I cannot begin to smell them apart from each other. As far as I can smell Ropion as taken total command of his raw materials and has interwoven them so tightly that from beginning until it fades away a good 6+ hours after application we smell acacia flowers and nothing else. The sillage is a good distance that most anyone in your general vicinity will smell you but it is gentle and subtle enough that it is sure to be in a pleasing and gentle way. It is a very specific smell and I feel there will be a lot of lovers and a lot of haters and not a lot of people who feel impartial. Yet, for all those around you the smell is pleasant enough that even those who don't care for it will not run for the nearest source of fresh air. So my advice is that if you like mimosa, acacia, and/or violet-orris to try a sample or even better a decant and see how you like it. Even though this is not am absolute favorite perfume and now my signature scent, I can certainly see why it is not for everybody. But for those of us who love it, it is a real masterpiece unlike any other perfume on the market, well worth the hefty price.