Giorgio

I was one of those lucky Vogue magazine subscribers back in 1983 who opened up the newest issue and discovered a scented paper sample, impregnated with one of the most remarkable and exceptional fragrances theretofore. It was simply DIVINE; it was flamboyant, it was fun and it was very unusual. It was Giorgio Beverly Hills, and rightfully called "extraordinary cologne". There was nothing else like it. To kipe a phrase from SJP's Covet ad campaign: "I had to have it". And because it was, back in the day, rather expensive comparatively speaking, I had to budget for it. But pinching my pennies wasn't a hardship at all; I would've cut back on almost everything just to get my hands on that juice. To obtain it, I had to mail away for it. Yes, one had to send a paper check through the mail, and I waited rather impatiently for the parcel to arrive. But the wait was worth it. Yes, this was heaven! Potent is an understatement, but I was judicious in how I used it, never more than one mist-and-walk through spray. I would not let it shout, but its presence was delightfuly apparent, and in those days before it became available in department stores, I had many, many appreciative comments and compliments. "What IS that fragrance? It is WONDERFUL!" I don't think I've ever received as many compliments on a fragrance I've worn since. It was absolutely a head-turner, for both women and men. And so I was a happy young woman, happy because Giorgio Beverly Hills is, at its heart, a happy, fun-loving fragrance. Happy because my chemistry made this fragrance blossom and sing, and this unique fragrance was "mine" and mine alone, at least for a short while. But soon enough, that all changed. Everyone loved Giorgio Beverly Hills, and when it became available in department stores, everyone got it, wore way too much of it, and it became a sorry cliche; a cariacature that represented the worst of the 80's decade. Primo, the imposter body spray just magnified and further bastardized the situation. It was no longer "mine", no longer unique. And familiarity, while not breeding contempt, did bring a sense of cookie-cutter clones, the very opposite of my personality. So, I put it away and moved on to other perfumes. Gradually, others put theirs away, too, and it's now rather uncommon to catch a whiff of it while out and about. I can't remember the last time I smelled on someone. My bottle is now 28 years old and only the last third of it remains. The juice has slightly darkened and a few of the sparkling top notes are gone. But overall, it's still all there, still as fabulous and delightful as it was in the very beginning. And I still wear it now and then, without apology. It still suits me, still elicits compliments, still makes me happy.

Giorgio could also be named Gorgeous. Let me tell you my little story with this one (apologies beforehand, it got rather long): Born in the 80s I grew up with some powerhouses worn by my mother. She smelled (smells) fabulous and looks the part. She also had a bottle of Giorgio, which at some point stood on the counter of the guest bathroom (she is more the Opium kind of girl). However, I always smelt it now and then because its so gorgeous, a happy scent. Powerful? Sure! But, as stated below - never cloying. Yesterday I was walking past the perfume counters in a department store and sniffed some fragrances on sale: The original Marc Jacobs, Anais Anais and the likes. I noticed an older sales consultant (not meaning that disrespectful, its important for the story) watching me. I spritzed some of MJ on my arm and continued with my business. After I finished I came back to that spot and smelled some more of MJ, contemplating about it and that's when she approached me. Well, let me tell you - this is the second, maybe third sales consultant I encountered who knew what she was talking about. Encouraging, not being pushy at all. We talked about white florals and how I was on the lookout for a classic and thinking about getting Houbigant Quelques Fleurs sometime in the future, maybe for my birthday as its quite pricey. That's when she guided me over to the Elizabeth Arden section (they apparently required that license as well) and asked if I was up for an experiment - holding a bottle of Giorgio. Sure, I said, I know that! She sprayed and oh my god. I didn't remember it to be this gorgeous! Thousands of white flowers (tuberose, gardenia, jasmine, orange blossom...) tickled my nose with a hint of fruit. As soon as they simmer down the base notes make their presence known. The dry down is a gorgeous and long lasting sandalwood infused vanilla with a hint of the white flowers and noticeable ylang ylang and oakmoss. This is a full-grown perfume, even the reformulated version still holds a punch and lasts forever on skin and clothing. I got some operating device from this lovely lady: Spray once, max twice before you get dressed, that's it. And then she sent me on my way with some buying advice (the drugstore around the corner had this on offer) and off I went. Was she a perfume angel or something? I don't know but it truly made my day, if not week. I am also grateful that I grew up experiencing these kinds of perfumes. They are truly in a league of their own and I love them for it!

Giorgio is a revelation to me, both because it is so lovely and also because it was one of the ubiquitous “old lady” perfumes of my childhood, only now opening up to me. While Giorgio opens with a slap of tuberose, it is much more a Gardenia fragrance to my mind. The gardenia here is earthy but also creamy, even buttery. It is almost as though you are confronted with a blindingly bright environment, and from the glaring whiteness of the tuberose, gentle gardenia comes into focus, along with indolic ylang ylang, its shadow. Orange blossom rounds out this floral bouquet, further enhancing its brightness. But this isn’t really the overall experience of Giorgio, which is shepherded into a more pastoral environ by rustic oakmoss, peach, and chamomile. Indeed, Giorgio gives the impression of bright sunlight flooding a field of flowers nodding in the breeze. The impression is not of heat, but of light and air; the texture that of pollen strewn on petals. As the sun dims on this fragrance, one is left with a tenacious yet gentle honeyed pillow of oakmoss. Now that I can appreciate its nuances, the date of this scent is surprising. (That is, I wouldn’t discourage vintage haters to try this one out.) Contemporary niche homages to vintage chypres often capitalize on the way the genre creates a wide open space between shimmering top notes and shadowy base notes, and due to changes in both taste and regulations, modern iterations of the genre tend to put the emphasis on the brighter citrus or floral notes. So unlike most vintage chypres, where a panorama seems to unfold that stretches down into the underbrush and even the soil, these scents seem to ascend skyward. Giorgio Beverly Hills produces just such an effect, which can also be seen in, for instance, January Scent Project’s Dinudisit (whose creator, John Biebel, has remarked on the bright and billowing qualities of Giorgio in his writing for Fragrantica). This is the charm of Giorgio Beverly Hills, which can be appreciated without any knowledge of perfume history. But as an appreciator of both vintage and contemporary chypres, I’m astonished to find such an approach to the genre in the 80s, a decade that tended toward often dense complexity. It seems instead to be poised on a historical tightrope between the comparatively two airy poles: first generation of chypres and 21st century homages to them, especially among those modern niche perfumes we have begun to refer to as “agrestic.”

I used to wear this back in the 90s and have not even thought about wanting a bottle in decades. I had long forgotten its fragrance and to be honest its so low priced now in the UK its seems too cheap of a scent to wear now l have much more expensive and luxurious perfumes. I admit l was being a perfume snob about it, but last year l was on a bus home from work and talking to a friend and a woman got on the bus and walked past me and the whole bus filled with this gorgeous flowery powdery sweet-ish but not sugary sweet, it's natural floral sweet, fresh gardenia lilly scent and it was wonderful..l immediately got up and went and asked her "excuse me can l ask what perfume you're wearing its amazing and l want to buy it". She said "oh thankyou, it's Georgio Beverly Hills". I was shocked l didnt think anyone wore it anymore, and l jumped online and bought a bottle before I'd even reached home. I've been wearing it for about 6months now and have fallen in love with it again. I just ordered my second bottle last night actually. Its lovely. Insanely powerful and the trail it leaves when you walk is outstanding it's fresh and clean floral gardenia lilly powdery in the dry down so womanly and feminine at a great price so you don't have to worry about using it up too fast and can get another easily for a good price. Honestly I've got £150 perfumes with these ingredients and notes that are not put together as well as this is dont let the price and retro vibe put you off. If you love florals you'll love this. Sometimes the old ones really are the best. Plus this perfume was copied to death by all the major perfume companies. They all knew how good it was and immediately did their own versions with high price tags. It really should cost more. I think if you're young and into sweet sugary fruity gourmand creamy scents you won't like this, it's taken me many years of maturing and bending towards florals in my older years to fully appreciate its magical scent. When l was much younger florals signified old ladies but now I'm quite into them. I give this golden oldie but goodie a 9/10.

My first fragrance love. I started wearing this in my early teens - a little late to the Giorgio party - and even now in my 40's the sight of this bottle and the golden yellow and white striped packaging gives me a rush of optimism and excitement. It takes me back to a time when I'd get a new bottle at the airport duty free. My mother would buy her signature Opium and as many boxes of cigarettes as we could possibly stash in wrapped up beach towels upon our return. They would have reeked of this fragrance, as I wore it poolside every day. Perhaps that kept customs checks at bay? As I'm pulled deeper into my sunny floral reverie I have a sudden urge to browse The Sweater Shop, to read the latest Just 17, and owning a Body Shop bag for lugging around my worldly possessions is the most pressing issue in my life. My goodness, I can almost taste those in-flight British Airways bread rolls... As a teen when I wore Giorgio it was a theatrical fantasy. I wasn't a little awkward dark haired girl. I was vibrant, I was a hair-sprayed blonde, I had a convertible and a phone shaped like a burger in my bedroom, all the boys at school were in awe of me and looked confusingly like they were in their mid 20's... Of course I was and had none of those things, but by golly, I smelled amazing. Giorgio today is remarkably close to what I remember. Everything was strong back then, and the formula is more subdued these days. Don't get me wrong, it's still very potent, but for me not at all cloying or invasive. It's sweet, sunny, floral, a little fruity. It's difficult for me to dissect, mostly jasmine, not screechy or sharp on me and I don't recall it ever being so. 2 sprays is my maximum. One inner arm and one lower chest, the neck would be too much for my preference. As an adult there's no more theatre, I'm comfortable in my own skin now, comfortable enough to wear this beautiful old friend whenever I fancy, yes somewhat for the memories, but mostly because it's still got it.