Ombre Rose Parfum

I have been wearing different incarnations of Ombre Rose for a few years now, and let me say a word about the spray versions of Brosseau's masterpiece first: I vastly prefer the old formulation edp to the new "Ombre Rose L'Originale." (The actual original formula can be found in the 5ml minis in the same style bottle as above, but the octagonal glass is entirely transparent, not black, with an opaque plastic ball stopper. The Ombre Rose l'Originale is a reformulation of that older edp, and isn't fit to scent a taxicab.) Ombre Rose Parfum--in the gorgeous black glass splash bottle and the clear glass stopper-- is a bit soapy and old-fashioned, but with a clean, understated sexiness to it, like the buttoned-up librarian with a sly smile and a gleam in her eye that makes you wonder what she gets up to after she goes home from work in the evening. This is the ultimate talcum-powder, milady's boudoir rose scent, with a hint of grassiness. It can be a ladylike work scent, or a come-hither date-night scent, depending on the attitude it is worn with. You won't smell like everyone else in the room (not in this century, anyway). If you are looking for a dewy-fresh rose, a candied rose, a green fruity rose, a vampy rose, a vanillic rose . . . look elsewhere. This is elegant English powdery rose, graceful as calligraphy on a wedding invitation, like dried rose petals in an old book, with only a whiff of tea-like sweetness in its papery flatness. That's what it is. That's all it needs to be. Cheers, Friends.

I bought the pure parfum for a great price--the little black flacon with the exquisite transparent top alone was worth the price. That the perfume--a dusky woody powdery rose-violet cocktail, with a real vintage feel--reminds me of my beloved Chanel Misia is the (violet-vanilla) icing on the (rosewater-honey) cake. And what a sweet glass flacon, the perfect size to clasp in one's hand like a talisman against stench.