Jicky

*****FIFTY SHADES OF GUERLAIN***** #2) Jicky (1889, Aimè Guerlain) -golden forest brown- Modern (c. 2012) extrait review I have reviewed hundreds of fragrances and own in excess of a thousand; yet, no other scent has confounded me as much while managing to enrapture me so completely. Please bear with me as I attempt to translate something so utterly iconic and sublime as Jicky using only the written word... I felt as if I was looking down the wrong end of the proverbial microscope, attempting to review and experience such a legendary and revered perfume as Jicky having only a decanted sample of the most recent (read: "post-IFRA's most stringent guidelines and more than a decade after the LVMH takeover") extrait version with which to plumb the depths of Aimè Guerlain's late 19th century masterpiece. Yes, I know, that word gets bandied about a bit; yet if any scent ever deserved that appellation-it's Jicky, even this almost holographic representation is no less amazing and still has its Guerlain glimmer! To put this perfume is an historical perspective, it was released right in the middle of the Belle Èpoque era (1871-1914) in Europe, corresponding to the Gilded Age in the US. The Eiffel Tower was unveiled (many scorned it calling it gauche and unsightly), Van Gogh painted "Starry Night", the Moulin Rouge was open for business and Gustav Mahler premiered his first symphony. Baudelaire, Gaugin, Matisse, Bernard, Toulouse-Lautrec and a very young Picasso frequented Paris nightlife and salons. Pierre-François had passed away twenty-five years earlier leaving the Guerlain legacy to his two sons: Aimè becoming a second generation Master Perfumer and Gabriel *father of Jacques* running and expanding the business. The Age of the Machine was dawning and as exciting as that was, folks were a little skeptical of anything "un-natural". Guerlain was a pioneer and Jicky broke many a mold. It is touted as the first "emotive" perfume (not single note or place specific). This fragrance was not the first to use synthetics (Houbigant used coumarin in Fougère Royale 6 years earlier) but Aimè was the first perfumer daring enough to combine more than one synthetic (coumarin, ethyl-vanillin and linalool) into a blend of natural essences; thus its title of first "modern" perfume. Allegedly, it is also the first fragrance to be called "perfume", as opposed to eau de cologne I would imagine(?). He crafted Fleurs d'Italie (1884), Skine (1885) and Rococo (1887) beforehand and Excellence (1890), Belle-France (1892) and his dual swan songs of Capricime alongside his generational ode to cologne Eau de Cologne du Coq in 1894 afterwards; however Jicky is, in my humble opinion, his magnum opus. Without intending to (or perhaps he DID) M. Guerlain conceived and created a very androgynous unisex perfume. Supposedly, this was released for women, but was later adopted by men, ultimately being favored by both genders. One myth states prostitutes wore it because it left a very masculine trace and trail (not the more feminine scents usually worn by courtesans) lingering on their (presumably married) clients. Then, just as now, many people fear what they do not understand...and Jicky remains perplexing on many levels. It was not initially received well (many said it "smelled like feet"! in 1889) and I am sure the *still* visionary fusion of a classic fougère structure being adorned with sophisticated flowers dusted with a subtle mélange of oriental notes then drenched by an overdose of civet musk left many inquisitive sniffers with wrinkled noses; no doubt shaking their heads and reaching for their snuff tins. Many call this perfume "schizophrenic". I disagree wholeheartedly. There must be a "schism" (break) for that to be true and Jicky is anything but fractured or confused. The reaction of modern people has been a bit insane; as I have gotten the STRANGEST range of comments while wearing Jicky for the last few days (trying to wrap both my nose and brain around it). Everything from "you smell awe-some!" to (Sherapop's aforementioned) "spice cake" accord to my partner's declaration that one of the most majestic fragrances ever created reeked of "offal...with burnt hair on top"! Moral of the story: TRY BEFORE YOU BUY...because Jicky doesn't come cheap! *see links below* An immediate vaporous warmth surrounded me as a lemon-dominated blend of citruses add lift to gradually unfurling herbal accords and the aroma of savory spices. Its true fougère nature is apparent as velvet lavender opens in the heart giving this a classic appeal with rustic undertones. The inviting charm of the opening draws you, like a bouncing and bright will-o-the-wisp, guiding you into a half-lit forest dense with fertile soil, cool greens and heady blooms wafting through warm thick air tinged with muskiness. A beguiling creature appears from the underbrush, each and every movement graceful while gliding between the trunks. It continues prancing and laughing with a blend of innocent joy and mature wisdom though each and every gesture belies an intimate sensuality and deep connection to the Earth. This being radiates a masculine strength and rural ruggedness; yet, its obvious gentleness and feminine grace enchants, even as it confounds. Aimè Guerlain used varying degrees of green (orris, linalool and vetiver) to blend seemingly incongruous notes ultimately bridging the gap between "his" (fougère) and "hers" (floriental) with perfumed tendrils who pull the scent together as it expands and evolves. An exotic balminess remains languorously for hours on skin. Coumarin's sweet breath lingers over vanilla glazed and spice-impregnated wood. Purring quietly as it caresses you one last time, emitting a (for want of a better term) "fresh funk" that haunts the memory with its beauty, almost as much as its oddness, before fading away into the wee hours a cold frosty night. Projection on modern Jicky extrait varies greatly, depending on whether it's dabbed or sprayed, and on where it's applied. The longevity (especially on clothing, detectable even days later) is superlative. Sillage is soft, yet it can reappear-stretching and baring its claws a bit-when skin warms. It wore best for me on a drizzly and chill autumn day. Jicky is the perfect scent for such occasions as it has a definite ambience and moody complexity. Silage: moderate then soft Longevity: above average Overall: 5/5 *TIMELESS AND ETERNAL* Jicky is like the groovy great grandmother perfume surrounded now by her various fresh, oriental and fruity floral progeny. She is still amazing, warm and full of life. Unfortunately, she is not what she once was. Though very much alive she tires quickly and doesn't do quite as much as she used to do. Her very matronly aura commands respect though she is anything but formal, quick to hug with a joke and a smile. Always comfortable with herself and who and what she was, perhaps it is best we choose to remember her how she was in her heyday, full of sass and a total knockout while still being grateful we have her around today. She's still that lady (and always will be) who remembers (though she may claim that she doesn't) sylvan moonlight soirées and dancing barefoot in clothes that smelled of earth, love, smoke and flowers wandering home at dawn; now smiling and humming as she taps her nimble feet and gazes with ancient eyes at a full golden midsummer moon. I am forever grateful to Gojira (AKA The Nichemeister) for sharing his precious exrait with me and apologize to Jicky, itself, for neglecting it for such a long time. I sprayed it on paper, upon initially receiving it a couple years ago (and was instantly intrigued); yet its faint sillage let it slip "under my radar"; surrounded as it was, by paper strips wafting Lutens, Nasomatto and Montale. I placed it in a drawer until just recently...and maybe that is just as well. I can honestly say when I received this I was on a "niche" rather than a "vintage" expedition; so even if I had worn it I doubt it would have the impact it has had on me. I'm sure IT will tire of me long before I grow tired of it! My appreciation for Jicky is thus three-fold: it's groundbreaking construction at the time it was created, it's historical significance (both as a masterpiece perfume, nay work of ART) and ultimately, that no matter how "heavenly" I ever think it smells-it remains warmly human, divinely dirty and undeniably earthy. One final word about Jicky, and the lore surrounding it, its connection to Coty's Emeraude and its giving birth (eventually) to the classic oriental Shalimar: regardless of who added what to this to get that, when and for whom each and every one of those classics may have never been were it not for M. Guerlain throwing caution to the wind and pushing the envelope as he did. Love it or hate it, vintage or modern...Jicky deserves praise and has more than earned the status of legendary. A true "must sniff" reference scent and milestone watershed moment in perfumery.

If someone offered me the opportunity to go to a great art museum, alone or with just a friend or two, and spend all the time there I wanted for a bit less than $40, I'd probably jump at the chance. If they told me that when I was ready, I could take a piece of art home to keep for no extra charge, I'd be off like a shot to get there before they changed their mind (or recovered their sanity). This is how I feel about the chance to shop Guerlain's many offerings on the discounter websites. Jicky, like Shalimar, Mitsuko, Vetiver and so many others, is a work of art and history in a bottle. I have never gotten a fecal note from Jicky. What I experience is a fleeting citrus masterpiece at the opening that is quickly joined by the three elements that mark so many of the Guerlain products from before 1970: (1) animalc leather (civet with some castoreum in the vintage bottles, or convincing, if lighter, chemical substitutes in current formulations); (2) vanilla/lavender/sandalwood (the Guerlain base that was first seen in Jicky and which became integral to the DNA of the house in the decades that followed); & (3) powdery orris (high quality and, to my nose, natural smelling). It is all rather elegant (and at least to my perceptions) so totally unisex that I cannot fathom what made the house initially market this product to women and not to all. Perhaps that decision was a product of the era in which Jicky was released, but famously, it was Belle Epoque men who bought Jicky and made it a success. When I wear Jicky, I feel like I am smelling history. It has its bright spots--often what first catches your attention. It also has more difficult moments which can prove momentarily challenging but which ultimately resolve into a comprehensible whole that provides irreplaceable insight into what we all encounter today. That's Jicky. Understanding this beautiful creation is just so vital to truly fathoming what came after it. Much of today's fragrance landscape would not exist were it not for the success of Jicky. I wear Jicky in warmer weather. I find the performance of the current formulation to be less well adapted to the dry cold of winter. The Extrait, if you can find it and are willing to pay the much higher price, works well in the cold and smooths and softens the sharpest moments in the other versions. These days, Jicky is a great scent for time spent at home. It is comfortable to wear but intriguing when you take time to focus on it. Like the bottle for Perrier-Jouet Fleur de Champagne, the bee bottle used for Jicky is elegant, historic and somehow presages what it contains. As such, it is a great decision regarding presentation of this classic scent. Also, the atomizers on these bottles are quite good. Any fragrance enthusiasts should, at the current prices, seek out and buy a discounted bottle of Jicky EdP. As the other comments here show, you may not come to love it as I do, but you need to have experienced Jicky repeatedly to understand much of what came after it. There is a reason this product has been in continuous production for more than 130 years. Why not get your nose on it and find out why? I think you'll be glad you did.

Amazing scent. I ended up on the Jicky path after reading that Sean Connery was rocking this back in the 60's and 70's. This was also the reason I acquired Habit Rouge, which I fell in love with. So, intrigued by the scent and the image of Sean Connery's chest hair coverage while using this scent, I thought, "Let's copy Mr. Connery again and get Jicky". Wow, let me just say, this is an amazingly uplifting scent. Completely abstract, no, I don't think nature produces such scents that we could use as yardsticks and say, "Oh yeah, that smells like such and such a thing". Jicky is a microcosm, to don it, is to enter it's atmosphere, it's world, it's olfactory vortex of lemony delights and an unknown accord, which many call the "baby poo note". Let's be honest, no, it doesn't smell like that, I think people exaggerate when they're up against a fragrance that their nose can't comprehend. It's what I would call a "fresh dissonance", something very much there on purpose. But I repeat, it's a very abstract accord. This is one of the most versatile fragrances I have ever come across (I have the Eau de Parfum), and I should mention I am a male. I read here that it was originally sold to both men and women in Aimé Guerlain’s day, and, so the legend goes, the men wearing Jicky, after frequenting brothels so to speak, “passed the fragrance on” to the ladies working there, not sure if this is just folklore though. And the rest is history. This should really be listed on Fragrantica as a unisex fragrance. Nay, I say, hombres, let us take back Jicky entirely for ourselves,this could be our own unique 21st century statement of laidback yet refined manliness! But seriously, I can think of so many contexts for using this scent: Chilling in my house during a summer afternoon. A refreshing after-shower pick-me-up. A date scent (with a lady I’ve gone out with at least twice, not apt for a first date I think): A contemporary office scent: A sensual post-amatory, lying in bed together scent; Could possibly be used as a “couple scent”, with the two of them wearing it. If you found yourself liking this, I think you can use it virtually any time, any place. Also, if you get a hold of Jicky, you’ll probably be the only person you know using it, so it makes for a great signature scent, and it’s not a challenge to wear, it’s in fact very inviting. I haven’t touch upon the olfactory pyramid here, because really, this scent is art. It can’t be easily comprehended by breaking its notes down, but that doesn’t mean you can’t simply wear it whenever you’re in the mood for an uplifting slap on the cheek. No, it doesn’t smell like cat bum, or baby poo, just a really refined and complex masterpiece suitable for anyone, from just one member of the Guerlain dynasty, all of whom were gods among noses.

I blind-bought Jicky when I first started seriously delving into the world of appreciating perfumes in late 2019 because, well, it’s a classic isn’t it? And besides it stands at a watershed between the past and present, the ultimate definition of modernity. Now we have post-modernism, which aesthetically always references something else from a previous epoch, whether earnestly or ironically. It’s never a clean slate - but Jicky feels like it was worked with no preconceived ideas of perfumery. Jicky to me comes across as one of the freshest, most invigorating fragrance experiences I have ever had. Even now, into my second bottle, that first spritz never fails to make me smile. Could its zingy citrus top notes cushioned by a plush base of Tonka and benzoin (so reminiscent to me of scented Armenian papers and one of my favourite ‘clean’ scents) be the advent of the entire men’s barbershop fougere genre, as debonair an icon of perfumery as a three-piece suit? And yet, it was apparently devised as a women’s perfume, at a time when women were discovering freedom and athleticism in Cycling and women’s fashions consequently evinced a new practicality, taking cues from men’s fashions before relapsing into ornate prescriptive silhouettes just a decade later. Jicky too seems to have been born in this interstitial period of feminine liberty, renouncing the floral furbelows of its predecessors to emerge smelling more of a mood than a likeness. There is something about Jicky’s hesperidic freshness that makes me think of it as my ‘white t-shirt’ scent - for days when I want to feel unencumbered yet stylish and, perhaps, even as handsome as Marlon Brando in a Streetcar Named Desire. It is by no means a surgically-clean freshly-laundered white t shirt, it’s rumpled and a bit sweaty, but the clean sweat of a desirable man, straight out of a warm shower freshly shaved but already perspiring. It avoids the overt sharpness of cologne or aftershave, or the solemnity of deep green oakmossy notes and remains perky all the way down to that gorgeous edible lemon-tart finish. Its dandyish brother, Mouchoir de Monsieur, feels way more dressed up somehow than Jicky; and as such he comes across as more mature even though he is fifteen years younger; he definitely puts on way more airs and cares much more about the fall of his trousers or the barathea of his evening ensemble. Jicky, insouciant, just wants to hop on his bike and go.

[275] Jicky is said to be the world's first modern perfume due to its innovative blend of both natural and synthetic ingredients. It was also initially created with men in mind, but was remarketed as a scent for women due to floundering sales. Thus, it can also be cited as the world's first unisex perfume. It is also the oldest perfume in continuous existence. As well as being an olfactory pioneer, Jicky is also one of Guerlain's masterpieces. I have a small sample of the parfum de toilette concentration that dates from c. the 1980s. It is a complex beauty - truly unisex and featuring a marvellous example of the Guerlinade accord. Jicky opens with bright, fresh citrus notes - notably lemon, reminiscent of Shalimar - alongside aromatic lavender. Soft herbal notes round out the lavender, giving a lovely aromatic aspect to Jicky, bringing it to fougère territory. Jicky serves fresh, herbal loveliness at this stage, but then tranforms as the vanilla note emerges, kickstarting the oriental phase. The famed lavender-vanilla at the heart of Jicky is sublime - sweet, smooth, rich and aromatic - as well as being perfectly, cohesively unisex. Soft spices emerge, along with a soft, powdery white floral accord, complementing the lavender-vanilla beautifully while rounding out the Guerlinade accord. Some soft woody notes add depth, and a hint of iris stands out as it dries down. Jicky's drydown is curiously similar to the manner in which amber spicebombs dry down - resinous, woody and animalic, bolstered by sweet vanilla and spices. It is rich and beautiful, reminiscent of Shalimar in particular here thanks to the Guerlinade accord. It fades to a sweet amber-vanilla skin scent. Jicky's use of vanilla is exceptional - perfectly balanced and nuanced, twisting between the other notes in a cohesive, complementary fashion. This should come as no surprise, as Guerlain is famed for its vanilla, but it is never better showcased than in vintage Jicky in my opinion - even in Shalimar. In a nutshell, Jicky is a bright, unisex scent centred around a lavender-vanilla accord, featuring perfectly balanced fougère and oriental facets. With moderate sillage and longevity, it makes for a beautiful springtime scent. No doubt the current iteration is a shadow of its former self, however. Still, one of my favourite vintage Guerlains. A wonder. 5/5.

Aimè Guerlain was creative enough for this era. He dared innovate by using more than one synthetic ingredient, namely linalool, coumarin, and ethyl vanillin. The result was a blend that evoked different types of natural essences rather than just one floral or fruity one. Jicky is considered one of the first modern perfumes and has also introduced the novelty of being a unisex perfume. It was released to women but later adopted by men. Allegedly it was also the first fragrance to be called a "Perfume". The French word "Parfum" comes from the Italian "Profumo", and the latter developed from the Latin "Per Fumum". It means "through smoke" in the sense of "expanding steam". Jicky is a warm perfume, but it opens with a fresh blend of citrus fruits flavored with the mint and herbal notes of rosemary. Its distinctly fougère nature appears in the body with a strong rustic lavender. It is sweetened by almond coumarin and jasmine, in addition to orris earthier nuances. At this stage, the development is somewhat masculine with an almost rural roughness while lingers with a bewitching feminine, graceful sweetness. We face two patterns, a male fougère and a female oriental floral, helping each other to maintain this duality. At the base, we find a resilient amber balm typical of ambergris, flavored with spices, sweetened with vanilla and benzoin, and a bit leathery and animalistic through the notes of leather and the indispensable civet. The performance of the modern jicky exceeds my expectations. The longevity is average in the skin, but it is superlative in clothing. The silage and projection are softer, although they vary positively depending on the heat. When do I use Jicky? On a cold spring morning or in a darker and more humid autumn afternoon. ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ My overall rating: 8.27 / 10.00 Recommendation: If you are a woman this is a must-have. It fits better ladies after 30 years old and/or formal clothes. If you are a man, you should better try it first. As far as I am concerned it's a must-have or at least a must-sniff. Good enough for a blind buy? No, try it first! Music: Edith Piaf - "Milord"

I imagine that Oscar Wilde and Mabel Love wore Jicky Jicky is timeless and delicious. It is the ultimate romantic meal for two. It has that sex and candy vibe, sweet and indolic, but the whole romance takes place in a Victorian cottage. Unlike most, I do not agree that Jicky is, exactly, Unisex. To me it is mostly feminine, but in the arms of a man. I do believe a rare and refined man could wear Jicky perfectly though. First there is sweet, soothing English lavender, which is immediately smoothed out with vanilla creme, our parasympathetic nervous system is then pushed further with a main course of spices and a touch of fresh rosemary and basil. There is cool sparkling Limoncello and bucks’ fizz with sprigs of mint to quench your thirst. All of this warmth and tingling smoothness is like olfactory ASMR. But you find your self outdoors, walking through the cool woods, picking wildflowers and wearing an old, loved leather jacket that belongs to your lover. You can smell his fragrance on the coat, and it makes you want to hurry back to the cottage for, dessert. The dry down is so sweet and warm. Marzipan for dessert. Fougere Royale Houbigant was introduced to the world in 1882. It was the 1st perfume to use synthetics and it changed the world of fragrance forever. Jicky came along 4 years later, both have a classy, but free countryside feel. They both utilize the aromatic organic compound -and powerful blood thinner- Coumarin (found in Tonka beans), the floral and spicy terpene alcohol Linalool and Ethylvanillin. This sounds unpleasant, but it is chemical magic, alchemy. Shalimar is Jicky for Winter. Perhaps the same woman, 35 years later and more about sweetness than sexiness? As I’ve said, I don’t find this to be unisex. The man who wears Jicky would have to be sophisticated, self-possessed and not insecure about being butch enough. Not for a Kouros wearing sort of man! I think of a Renaissance gentleman like Justin Trudeau wearing Jicky. I can imagine that Oscar Wilde wore it. I mostly picture it on great beauties and ladies, in love on their countryside estates, in summers over 100 years ago.

Omg, Jicky. So, I have a ton of perfumes, and gourmands are my obsession. But I adore Guerlain and Shalimar EDP and Parfum Initial EDP are my #2 and #3 scents of all time. I also love L'Heure Bleue even tho it's not my style. So, for giggles, I blind bought the Jicky EDP. It definitely is Shalimar without the vanilla... but vanilla is my fave part of Shalimar! I really was scared I'd hate this. I love Jicky. Yes, it's very "sophisticated dapper old man" but it's so much fun! I love the aura of a time gone by... the way it projects. It's past the bright citrus opening and now in the lavender powder stage. The vintage/dated vibe here is perfect (I also find LHB to be perfectly old fashioned). I'm wearing it for me... for my bliss... for this moment. It's not sexy or womanly... not feminine. But I am so happy wearing it right now... home for the night in my pajamas. If it had more vanilla or femininity... it would be Shalimar. So take it as it is. :) If antiques, old movies, books, etc make you happy... try this. Put it on and enjoy the moment of being transformed. Nothing is overly gross on me. No piss... but I get how someone may sense vomit... this gives off an acidic-ness that you get in your throat when you are sick... haha... but it's a stretch and certainly wasn't unpleasant like vomit. I am not sure what civet is... haha... but Jicky is not gross to me. The opening of Jicky was exactly like Shalimar, but after 20-30 minutes it strays far off into its unique lavender. Now I don't sense any more than 15% similarity after wearing for an hour. It's fresh yet creamy, yet also perfectly dusty. Definitely a vintage shaving cream. I will adore wearing this for me, and just me. I am so excited to have this perfume in this adorable bottle. (Current EDP bottle) I just love this. Crave it. I find it is absolute MAGIC when layered with other Guerlains, for me... the Shalimar flankers that bore me when worn by themselves: Eau de Shalimar, Shalimar Cologne, Shal Souffle... MAGICAL HEAVEN!

Aime guerlain created Jicky, just as God created Adam, and since then there have been human beings, opening the title page of civilization. Jicky is worthy of being the ancestor of modern perfume, one of the greatest miracles in the history of perfume, born a hundred years ago... Jicky should be the predecessor of Shalimar. It already has the foundation of Shalimar, but it lacks more ornate decorations and a stronger oriental style. The revolutionary Jicky beauty is androgynous, accessible to both male and female customers. At that time, the gender lines of fragrance and smell were still blurred, and the uncleanness of the civet surprised consumers who were still using citrus colognes. The discovery of ethyl vanillin (coumarin) led to the birth of Jicky, Aime guerlain combines natural raw materials (vanilla) with synthetic molecules (such as linalool), using large amounts of lavender, plus aromatic herbal materials such as rosemary, The oriental elements headed by tonka beans, set the starting point of the citrus and bergamot that I am very familiar with. It is fresh and bright, and Jicky, which combines all the advantages, was finally released in 1889. It has no floral fragrance, but only the heart of Fuqi. Guerlain Shanky Guerlinade is also enabled from Jicky. The gray character of orris root is charming, the spice of basil is slowly inserted, the amber is revealed, and the overall layer of Jicky is clear and rich in detail. Parfum is considered a soft oriental tone, EDT is similar to cologne, and lavender is more prominent. A capable and dashing new-age woman! Heroic and valiant, not inferior to men. Jicky is in the same vein as Guerlain's cologne. It is a transitional work in Guerlain's style, which is absolutely crucial. Jicky is often overlooked because of Shalimar's reputation. The new version of EDT is already very cute, and the old version of Parfum is mellow and full, and it is a classic that must be smell in a lifetime.

Oh, Jicky... So sweet and nostalgic. I have a vintage decant of this that i got from Surrender to Chance. I don't remember what year off hand. Jicky is a good gateway drug to animalic/funky notes since the herbal notes take the edge off such a beautiful one-of-a-kind HUMAN accord. I also find it to be quite marine, not sure why that didn't make the notes. It's purifying yet dirty, like the wet sands next to the sea. Warm and bracing at the same time. The "bodily" smell as I paraphrase here, is most likely civet, which I believe is unique to vintage perfumery. It is an animal material of anal origins, so to anyone picking up tonsil stone or peepeepoopoo, you're not wrong. From my experience, on certain days that note will definitely come out more. For me, those are my luteal days. Think of someone you love when Jicky smells difficult and it will put you in their arms. It instinctually reminds me of smelling my dad's breast when he is dressed up and is wearing some kind of scent. If there is no one you love, imagine you smell a tree, the ocean, a rock, sun-dried compost, food or bedding for a beloved pet, birdseed, or a blanket of dried pine needles and hay after rain now drying in the shade. Jicky is for lovers. I want to drink Jicky, and bathe in it. It's so comforting. It blends perfectly into itself. It is one of the most beautiful intimate scents. I am interested to try the current formulation but from what I understand a vintage bottle may be worth my while. In the meantime I will treasure and savor my vintage decant! At the risk of committing blasphemy, I suggest pairing it with Into the Stars lotion from BABW. The fruity almost gourmand spiciness complements the metallic, tannic feel of Jicky so well IMHO.

Glorious! Why? For me four reasons. Firstly, lavender combined with vanilla/tonka is a match made in heaven, a perfect cool/warm combination. If you like it but find Jicky a bit too dirty, dated or over-complicated, try Chanel's Boy. Secondly, the citrus and aromatics in Jicky are so enervating and interesting. They don't blow off after a few minutes as they would in a citrus cologne, but are twisted through the warm and woody notes at the heart of the fragrance. Thirdly, the dirty accord. Much discussed in reviews here. I don't detect civet as such, or anything animalic, but an accord that roughens and complicates the rest of the fragrance and gives it inner strength. Finally, Jicky is more than the sum of these parts. To me, this fragrance has tremendous strength of character. It is bold, independent, mischievous, gender fluid, unsentimental and unpredictable. Above all, this is a very intelligent fragrance. I never wear Jicky when I need comfort on sad or anxious days. Of course I have those days, but I keep Jicky for when I'm feeling cheerful, energetic and determined. I love the print ad featured on this page on Fragrantica. Firm hands on the wheel and shoulders back, this woman powers on and is not bothered by a few loose strands of hair. Note the hint of an ironic smile on her face. In my imagination she has just dumped her bloke on the side of the road and is making off in his car leaving behind nothing but exhaust fumes and a whisp of Jicky for him to remember her by. My comments relate to the bee bottle EDP, purchased in April 2017.

Jicky is brilliant. I really love the very idea of its existence. Mainly because nowadays perfumes are basically rearrangements of previous perfumes. So many references and having to guarantee the market share is what we are left with. Pure mediocrity mostly. Besides the fact that perfumers are hostages of IFRA’s rules and limitations feeding the greed of big laboratories and corporations. Luckily we have the new resistance in the names of Bortnikoff, Russian Adam, Tsvga, Rogue and other heros of our time to give us some hope that good perfumery is still possible. Lavender, citrus, civet and coumarin. There’s no gender. No “right type to pull it off”. If you don’t wear a masterpiece like this (even in the super “funky/skanky/bad breath civet” current formulation - and there’s no civet/civetone in fragrantica’s pyramid... tsc tsc) because of this ridiculous marketing “genderization” and what not, then you are a fool. And you’re gonna be the one missing a great experience because someone you’ve never met and probably never will wrote some kind of nonsense about ”masculinity” or the “right type of man”. For the record, the current bee bottle is way havier on civetone then the older bottle I own (the thin amphora with red/brown plastic cap). Like, a lot heavier. If in a tragic scenario of having to choose only one perfume for the rest of my life, Jicky would be seriously considered. Tremendous. This is 100% a perfume that everyone and anyone could and should wear - if they like it, of course.

I cannot believe I sampled a scent today that contained lavender, which I always associate with a undeniably harsh Yardley bottle from my childhood. I was also wary of the rosemary note and the basil and was expecting a sturdy, almost rough experience. But this was the famous Jicky - and I was so surprised and excited to see it for sale. I just had to go there. I can only describe my encounter today with Jicky as a parallel for being with Benjamin Button. The initial spritz and first few minutes made me feel that I had wandered into a dusty abandoned boudoir and had dabbed myself with the remnants of a near empty flacon. Musty, old, no potency remaining. Stale. A half hour in, and things had settled a bit, but still not so impressed. It certainly had the hallmarks of the era in which it was created, but - Too vintage for me, I thought. Just not me, I thought. I would wear it if it were a gift, but spend my money elsewhere. Driving home, I began to wish I'd lived in an earlier age. I was now getting the elegance, the style, the poise of this lovely lady. It is now near bedtime, nine hours have passed and Jicky flits and flirts around me, teasing, girly, barely there but certainly not gone, and laughing at my presumption at dismissing her so soon. This one goes to the top of my list for when I can next afford to indulge in a classic. P.S. The lavender is deliriously gorgeous.

Crafting a comprehensive discourse on Jicky proves to be a formidable task. The challenge lies in articulating insights that haven’t already been expressed. It’s not merely about sequentially dissecting the fragrance’s opening, heart, and dry-down, as this conventional approach fails to honor what I perceive as a paragon – perhaps the pinnacle – of contemporary perfumery. Jicky transcends the boundaries of mere scent; it is an enchanting phenomenon, to borrow Dante’s words, «unfathomable to those who don’t taste it». This olfactory experience unfolds as a journey through time, yet its destination is introspective, devoid of conventional landmarks. Given my limited expertise, I am not inclined to casually discuss art or designate masterpieces. However, Jicky undeniably hovers on the precipice of such accolades. Yet, let us not misconstrue it as a solitary and insurmountable monolith, imposing its essence on every olfactory encounter. Quite the opposite: it serves as the catalyst, igniting the doors to countless universes that spring forth from its essence. Once Jicky graces our senses, it permeates within each of us, unlocking a myriad of revelations. Consider it not merely as a perfume but rather a stargate to uncharted realms, unafraid to reveal the unexplored frontiers it beckons us to traverse.

Finally I received my first two Jicky bottles. One edt and one edp. Both are from the most recent formulas and they smell exactly the same. The only difference is the concentration. What it smells like? Well everyone knows how Jicky smells...or maybe not? On me it opens with a beautiful and strong bergamot oil that really awakens my senses. This energetic opening is followed by lots of freshly crushed rosemary and basil. Then a classic and soothing lavender makes it’s glorious entrance surrounded by a sensual vanilla and supported by sandalwood, despite not listed. I was waiting for the haliosis and fecal notes many reviewers are complaining. They never showed up on me. I couldn’t think of a more perfect, peaceful and contemplative fragrance than Jicky. It’s like walking in a backyard full of herbs and country flowers. It’s like reading a book with a hot cup of Earl Gray tea. You could just spray this timeless lavender breeze to bed and have the most wonderful dreams. I don’t consider it sexy nor dirty. Jicky is calming a perfume that invites you to feel at peace, to let the worries pass you by and wait for better things. Yes it reminds me of Shalimar but while Shalimar is sensual, mysterious and outgoing, Jicky is restrained, charming and quiet. A new love story has begun today.

I treated myself to the EDT of Jicky on a good sale/price. And I'm surprised to smell it's an actual lighter EDT of the EDP. Both current bottles, however the EDT is the NEWEST in the redone white boxes (bee bottles). My EDP of Jicky was bought in the last 1-2 years, but had a gold box. What the EDT does-- it removes that THICK Guerlainaide vanilla/powder. so the EDT is lighter and fresher, less heavy. However-- that means without the vanilla/Guerlainaide-- this is rather masculine instead of toeing the line between genders. AND-- I get a bit more old man breath in the EDT. Once you sniff that halitosis- you don't forget it. I think that comes from the citrus, spices, and lavender. I wear Jicky in both forms for myself. I think it's fun to wear/pretend to be old fashioned. I call my vintage/old scents "time machines". Because this is def Victorian and old fashioned- but fun. My EDT was just a tissue test so far, but it had huge sillage and the tissue still has a light soft smell. Kinda linear tho. Almost like an echo. It starts out HUGE and then just dries down- not really changing. If you like Eau D'Hermes- Jicky EDT is a fun similar scent. I find both those ^^ to be rather masculine, so Jicky EDP is my fave/recommendation.

I like Jicky. (I left MY review already) But yesterday, I put it on when I got home. It wasn't a hot day.... more like 50s/60s and rainy... but I worked up a sweat cleaning out a spare room. My body heat must have worked up my Jicky. My husband comes home and says WTF STINKS UP HERE?! He said it smelled like a musty old man with halitosis. He said it wasn't my perfume, but I knew better. Because of the reviews here... lmao... I still love Jicky, but perhaps I prematurely bought a back up 100ml EDP? Haha. I have to somewhat agree with him that it did smell pungent like bad breath (and I could TASTE it!) but that isn't how Jicky is normally, and it's not a super nasty smell IMO and I can tolerate it. Instead of thinking "bad breath!" I go beyond that... I know the notes and the history of Jicky. I can get past that part of Jicky. But I found it hilarious that he mimicked pretty much 50% of the reviews here... haha... and trust me-- he's never been on this website. I guess I will never need a Pure Parfum! Haha! I then layered with Chant D'Aromes EDT and later Vol de Nuit EDT. That seemed to work.. haha.... but by the time I went to bed, only the Jicky was left.

An exquisite, unisex masterpiece, veering slightly masculine due to the abundant fougere notes This makes me feel as though I’m in an orchard of lemons with fresh stems of rosemary blossoming. The vanilla is like a creme brûlée, indulgent and heavy. This is a perfect spring time scent, refreshing, zesty and optimistic. There is a creamy Tonka running through, alongside the Vanille. Performance and sillage are generally good, perfect for a professional setting. The menthol effect of the essential oils effectively capture the experience of a chilling spring breeze at the turn of the season, which is why this reminds me of new beginnings. The interesting thing about Jicky is that when wearing it, some notes are more apparent than others to different people. A lady at work said I smell like lavender, where others have commented that I smell strongly of bergamot. One common theme through all the feedback was that they absolutely loved it. Some even went as far to compliment my taste in fragrances. As someone who is generally averse to citruses, I actually love this one as it is well balanced with an aromatic, woody base and a generous pouring of vanilla.

I bought the new 100ml EDT bottle and unfortunatelly it has barely any staying power. Last year I tested EDP and I remember it being sweet and strong, it lasted a long while and it was a really warm smell. It was lovely but a bit too much for my liking, but I was still tempted. Having found EDT in an online sale I blind bought it after reading it wasn't as sweet and as in your face as the EDP. It certainly has a more masculine smell to it, to the point where after smelling it on me my other half asked if I had used his shower gel. But that's fine. I like that lavander is less sweet in the EDT and the smell is overall cooler and quieter. However after about 20 minutes it turns into a skin scent on me and I feel like no one else can detect it. I keep smelling my clothes and trying to catch a waft of Jicky but I really struggle. I have a feeling EDT would reveal more of true Jicky in warmer weather so I'm eagerly waiting for summer to see how it changes. To me, it's a Sunday smell. Be it a relaxing walk, a day of baking, or pottering in the garden, or just sitting reading. It's a scent of relaxation and calm. Shame it doesn't last at all on me.

I'm a guy. A pretty much guy's-guy kinda guy. Leather, whisky, straight-razor shaving, pistol-packin', hiking in the woods, eating BBQ ribs off the bone guy. I. Love. Jicky. When I'm out working in the garden, I could spend hours tending to the lavender plants just reveling in the smell of them. I use Dr. Bronner's liquid lavender soap in the shower. I shave with Speick lavender and valeriana cream. So, no surprise that this classic Guerlain would pique my curiosity, especially with its unisex history. I first got a sample of it to compare with another classic lavender/vanilla combo - Caron's Pour un Homme. Jicky is lavender & burnt vanilla sugar with animalic leather and civet to Caron's green-minty herbal woody concoction. On a man, it's fresh and vibrant, with the floral and vanilla softening the edges. Atypical enough to grab attention, but with a sufficiently masculine base to keep it from being too "pretty." On a woman, it's citrus and lavender with a naughty, feral side. It's innocence on top and sensuality beneath. This is a fragrance that you and your sweetie can both wear... just not at the same time, please.