1000

I cannot comprehend this perfume, and it is probably my favourite fragrance of all time. My 1985 vintage EDT opens with bitter and herbal notes which immediately put me in mind of gin and tonic, reminding me somewhat of Eau de Cartier. This bitter, bracing opening is incredibly short-lived, and quickly gives way to a very soft, fuzzy, powdery heart where the standout notes (for me at least) are violet leaf, osmanthus, rose, and moss. But these notes don't come close to describing the overall effect of this perfume, and what it does. It consistently eludes all of my attempts at comprehension. And this is perhaps its genius - it's an exeptionally engaging perfume which reveals new facets in each wear. It is a goldilocks composition which is neither sweet nor bitter. It is simulaneously warm and cool. Its overall effect is smooth and shifting, like mother of pearl - iridescent. In fact, this word, 'iridescent' is an apt descriptor here: 'a lustrous rainbowlike play of color caused by differential refraction of light waves that tends to change as the angle of view changes'. There are a number of interesting etymological connotations here: the word is derived from Iris, the Greek goddess whose name means both the rainbow, and the halo of the moon. A messenger of the gods, she was said to travel on the rainbow, and is associated with communication, described as beng a link between the heavens and the earth. Like the Biblical Joseph, she is said to have worn a coat of many colours which created the rainbows she used to travel between heaven and earth. The iris plant derives its name from her, alledgedly on account of its many colours. Iridescent is the perfect word: 1000 is the pale rainbow of a smooth opal or mother of pearl, containing all the colours at once, but shifting so quickly that you cannot ever fully grasp them in your comprehension individually. This is what this perfume does: it offers glimpses of its facets which change with weather, surface of application, time, and temperature. It's olfactory impression is abstract and pale, like a Monet. The overall effect is arresting, absorbing, and quite literally breathtaking. The quality of natural ingredients is so fine, I feel the soul of the plant essences with every rapturous inhalation. The cool of the morning, the burning glory of midday, the blazing energy of the sun channelled back upwards through sappy stem, and released in a sigh of fragrant ephemera - in a bottle. I realise this all sounds very grandiose and indulgent, but this perfume is truly worthy of such praise. Oh how I long to sample the extrait! RIP 1000 - in shallow water, shrimps make fools of dragons. You were doomed to obsolecence in this age of debasement and vulgarity.

Comparison of vintage Extrait and EdT, both bottles c. 1985 I'm a very lucky guy today. I get to visit with an old friend that I haven't often called-on for fear of running-out their company and losing them forever. Ironic, isn't it. I've bemoaned the loss of Jean Patou from our lives more than once, so I'll spare you the wailing and gnashing of teeth this time and focus on the joy - no pun intended - that is Jean Patou's 1000. The openings of each perfume are starkly different in my vintage bottles. A lot of this is due to their age, but a lot of it isn't. The EdT is hot. Fuel-like notes of violet leaf and bracingly bitter bergamot feel as though they might ignite at any moment. The extrait is much richer, pliant, and smoother, which is no surprise for an extrait, but the difference must be noted. The extrait also focuses more on an osmanthus note that is a bit floral and a bit fruity. The heart sections of both are virtually the same, which is to say, completely stunning. Sheer, soft, hazy, and powdery aldehydes abound in both. No surprise, the EdT is "thinner" than the extrait; the texture is lighter, airier, and contains more space. Near equal emphasis is placed on rose, muguet, and jasmine. The extrait's texture is opulent and luscious, like velvet to the EdT's linen. Emphasis is more on the rose than jasmine and muguet. The EdT approaches its final dry down faster, as it should, with significant attention placed upon damp and woody oakmoss and a creamy sandalwood. Hours later than the EdT the extrait reaches the same life stage of damp and woody oakmoss and creamy sandalwood, but the patchouli note is dialed up a notch or two to provide more breadth and depth. The different textures both perfumes have carry-on into their final dry downs and skin scents as well. You have no idea how difficult it was to stay completely objective and clear to describe these two formats. Every inhale I took of either one was an experience that nearly made my eyes roll to the back of my head and my heart flutter. 1000 is a masterpiece in both formats, but, of course, the extrait is first amongst equals. The effort that went into its creation - the use of exquisite and expensive materials blended 1000 times before Kerleo felt he finally got it right - results in a feeling of luxury that is somehow effortless. Luxury can be pushy, heavy, and sometimes just a bit too much. Not 1000. It is luxury without limitations or ego; it's about you and it, not just about it. Like the best of old friends, their company helps you feel complete. It was a lovely visit with this old friend today, and I can't wait to see them again.

1000 was one of the perfumes I looked up to after reading an interview with this perfume and its former employees on "Raiders of the Lost Scent", a wonderful blog about vintage perfumes. (If you are interested in Jean Patou's perfumes and 1000, I think it is a must-read article) Finally I got my hands on an unopened parfum in a handmade jade vial from 1989. I'm sure this will become my treasure. According to the interview, this perfume was probably "the world's most expensive perfume" and at the same time it looks "the world's most expensive perfume to produce and maintain". According to former employees, 1000 did not generate any revenue. The excessive pursuit of ideals and quality may not have been ideal as a business model, but it is a part that I would like modern large companies, where commercial profits are all about, to learn a little from. Let's go back to perfume. The 1000 is a very complex fragrance. 1000 fragrances is probably a myth, but there is certainly a vast amount and variety of fragrances used. What's interesting is that for such a powerful scent, the scent I actually feel is rather quiet. Speaking of a huge amount and variety of fragrances, I think of Bal a Versailles, but Bal a Versailles has each fragrance holding each other and popping out like a bomb. But the 1000 seem to be quietly harmonizing while holding each other's hands. It's like an accomplished chorus group. Even with a large number of people, no one stepped forward, creating a harmonious sound. And unfortunately, I don't think my nose has had enough experience to appreciate them yet. This is my impression at the moment, hoping that I'll be able to understand the 1000 better when I have more time. The top note has a green and floral feel to it. The fragrant rhinoceros is a familiar scent to me, but so far I can't feel the fragrant rhinoceros from 1000. I also feel a little medicine or herb-like scent. I'd like to think it smells good, but I still can't remove the question mark about this stage. But I love the soft harmonious scent from the middle notes. A complex and very elegant and fine fragrance, the notes of which are very difficult to categorize. I can't explain the fragrance well, but I feel very happy to be able to wear this fragrance. The one I love the most is the last note. I think it's sandalwood, very beautiful incense and musk scent. I put it on before going to bed and when I woke up in the morning, I was enraptured by the beautiful scent on my wrist. I want to secure stock while this parfum is still available.

(Review of an 80s vintage Eau de 1000 EdP splash) Oh god, please, tranquilo, my rapidly beating heart, before you thump from my chest. If there was ever a brand to send me into cardiac arrest it’s Jean Patou. What a most undeserving, slow, agonizing and painful death this beautiful brand has suffered. Criminal. Not for the least of reasons is Joy, but 1000 is another we shall forever be at an irrevocable loss without. Supposedly, it took 1000 attempts to create this perfume (starting as an extrait). I can believe it because it shows; it is so complex yet unerring that an incalculable amount of sweat, tears, and blood had to have been poured into its creation. A note pyramid is useless with a creation like this. Don’t bother. Every stage is abstract, and every material so seamlessly joined that it can only be described as a large choir of perfectly pitched voices; no one stands out, but they form a whole that is hair-raising in its beauty. The top is dried herbal, green and vegetal, bitter, citrusy, floral, a bit fruity, and a bit leathery. It’s a lot, and it will quicken the pulse like love at first sight. The heart is a floral amalgam that will make your heart stop. The overall effect is green florals: jasmine, rose, lily, and orris steered by a good heft of geranium. Then, finally, my heart gives out - ceases to beat - and sends me to a warm chypre afterlife of oakmoss and woods. The florals continue to play on, albeit very quietly in the form of orris, while a touch of green vetiver brings the top and heart home into the base that makes you content to pass to the netherworld. They don’t make perfumes like this anymore. They simply don’t. And I’m not some old fart being whimsical and boomer-ish towards the new; it’s the simple truth. To make this perfume new, today, would be a task of an artisanal brand selling it at $500+ for 50mL. It’s just not going to happen. Smells this if you can, you should, in the extrait, EdP, or EdT form - it doesn’t matter. This perfume is a DaVinci moment in the 20th century, to see what’s possible and to get it perfectly right no matter the effort or the cost. Oh, and by the way, if this doesn’t kill you, the extrait will be your coup de grace.

I am so happy the original, pure perfume version of Jean Patou 1000 has been added to the fragrance base! This version is what sparked my love of perfume. When, as a little girl, my mother offered me a sniff of the newly released Jean Patou 1000 it was with trepidation I approached the the small jade bottle. I had been told that it had an ingredient that came from the intestines of an African cat (civet) and it was with horror mingled with curiosity I bent my head towards the little flask. And then: Pure wonder. Nothing that I have ever experienced, before or after, can be compared to this. It was as if I was sucked into the velvety magic of a Thousand and One Nights. It wasn’t until many years later I smelled it again. My husband bought me a little green bottle, the magic was still there and my search for a signature scent was over. This is however one perfume that did not translate well into EdT. (The one I bought I actually threw away, the notes were all over the place with no balance.) This is probably why it so seldom gets the five stars it deserves. The people who love 1000 really, really love it, and that might have something to do with having experienced it in the pure perfume form. So what about the notes? I honestly cannot analyse them. This is probably the most integrated fragrance I have ever smelled. It is smooth and complete like a round, polished piece of amber. I wish to everyone the magic of experiencing Jean Patou 1000 as pure perfume. I haven’t smelled the current version, but even in the days of Procter & Gamble it was wonderful, so I hope it is still the same. To my heart and mind, this is the greatest perfume ever made.