Joy

(Review of the extrait, bottle c. 1985) What is there to say about Joy that has not already been said? Very little. It has been talked about incessantly since its release in 1930 for very good reasons, and has been discussed more recently with depression and disappointment that LVMH/Dior purchased Jean Patou and eliminated this perfume from the world of fragrances forever; a crime and a sin that we will likely never be able to forgive. The punishment is ours to bear by way of never being able to enjoy this perfume with abandon the way it should be. It is the perfect expression of rose and jasmine. The hyper realistic florals are drenched in sunlight by big kisses of ylang-ylang, giving them a radiance and complexity that sets Joy apart from nearly every other rose or jasmine perfume ever created. It is, in a word, perfect. (Review of the 1984 EdT by Jean Kerleo, bottle c. 1995) What's the greatest perfume of all time? That's a bit like asking what is the greatest painting, book, movie, or piece of music of all time, etc. No one knows, no one will know, and no one should know. Yes, we can talk about Mitsouko or Shalimar, or Cuir de Russie or No. 5, and on and on and on - yes, all prime candidates, but for me I think it is Jean Patou's Joy. The extrait of Joy is a legend for a very good reason experts and other geeks have expounded upon for decades. So, what of this EdT? First off, it needs to be said for context to my thoughts on Joy EdT that in the prior century of modern perfumery different concentrations of a perfume were the same perfume that behaved a bit differently. In the 21st century, this part of it at least, differing concentrations of a perfume are often very different perfumes. You only have to look so far as Guerlain to see that, particularly with what they are (deplorably) doing to Habit Rouge. Let's not get started on the designer houses, save for Chanel which seems to make an earnest effort to keep perfumes intact across formats and reformulations (though struggling a bit). In the not-so-distant past, an EdT was going to be very much the same as the extrait, and so would the eau de parfum... just behaved a bit differently, and that's really all I need to say for my thoughts on Jean Patou's Joy EdT. It is very much the Joy I know and so deeply love: an endless silk shawl of jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, and sandalwood. The first time I smelled a properly cared for Joy extrait (the bottle was from the 1970s) I nearly cried. That beautiful shawl of silken flowers seemed to stretch for an eternity, its finely woven, dense, and caressing fibers casting beautiful hues of light in every direction for hour upon hour upon hour. The EdT is that same shawl, just shorter. While the extrait would carry on for hours, the EdT is like a firework. Those beautiful hues of jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, and sandalwood are still there, but it's over more quickly. So what's the point then? Again, 20th century intentions with varying concentrations were centered around the idea that the behavior of a perfume should change, not the perfume - the behavior most often suiting the wearer's needs for the time and space it was to be worn in. Since the EdT is shorter lived, more of a quick blast than a long operatic epic, it is perfect on this warm spring day. While the extrait is perfect no matter what, it is less perfect for when I want a quick hit of Joy on a warm day; the extrait would probably be too much right now. Pick whichever concentration suits your needs. It's still Joy. And it's still absolutely brilliant and gorgeous.

So many Joys, so little time and money. Some kind soul in my neck of the woods has been auctioning the maligned Procter & Gamble iteration of Joy EDP and EDT, for a few shekels. I bought one, with trepidation but little financial risk. I liked it! I have since bought 4 bottles, 2 of each. For a total cost less than one bottle of new Dior Joy 90ml. You know why I'm mentioning that perfume house killer. Ha! Even the so called degraded worst iteration of Patou Joy, one of the greatest perfumes in history, the "Scent of the Century", is still quite good. Most of my Patou are the "Designer Parfums" editions. This is because I buy what's easy and affordable on the market today, having little patience, time, or cash to track down old bottles from when the ingredients were "real". Nor do I enjoy the risk of rip-offs. There seems to be a decent stock of P&G Joy still around. At least it keeps crossing my path. Good luck getting an online seller to tell you who produced the bottle they are selling. By the way, my Sira des Indes (which I like) are all P&G. I have never run across a Designer Parfums bottle. The Designer Parfums Patou editions are seeing knocks in price across the line, EXCEPT for Joy itself, where I see only half price cuts to EDP, at best, and here and there, lower again for the EDT. Those online sellers are tracking me. And you? Three times I have identified truly discount priced Designer Parfum bottles of Joy EDP and left them in my basket, only to return and see the price doubled up. The second time I became aware. The third time, well. My note is just to tell you, as stocks of Patou dwindle in the coming years, don't boycott the P&G Prestige iterations. If you can have a sniff before you buy one, you might like it. And maybe you'll get bargains. Bad Joy is better than no Joy. I am going to get my hands on a sealed 70s or 80s Joy EDP one of these days, let me assure you. In my Joy EDP (the bad one, the one nobody except me wants) I like the aldehydes and the way the metallic adjacent not-rose flowers coat the rose and its vibrations. As with all Patou fragrances, the impact is circular, radiating in. Joy's abstraction is like iridescent crystal bubbles of fragrance. Big bubbles, river pebble size. I find it neither expansive, nor calming or comforting. Soapy yes. There is nothing Guerlain about this experience. It evokes a spent beauty, in the dry down on some days. It's not doing the Joy for you, even though it's "Joy", after all. That's because Joy is the rakish, punk Patou. It was an impudent FU gesture to the Depression. The Most Expensive Fragrance in the World. Today, Joy is one of those high French luxury products best pulled off ironically by les garces et les vilains. No rich lady under 60 has worn Joy or a fragrance like it for many decades. I suspect this fragrance was always a bit punk, even in the 30s. By the 50s, that inpudence was forgotten. But today it's degraded and reformulated lux meets perfect vintage dimestore. Wear this on the barricades. Dorothy Day would have known what to do with this. She famously gave a diamond rich to a homeless lady in her soup kitchen. Called to task, Day cooly reminded her rich friend "God didn't create diamonds only for the rich." Et voilà, that's my cruddy P&G edition of the punkish Jean Patou Joy. La parfumerie second degré.

Vintage 1973 Joy extrait, black snuff bottle (cute as hell btw) My jasmine benchmark! Elegance is simplicity. Joy is elegance in a bottle. For all complexity of the formula, which arrived sealed and perfectly preserved, this is a stunning jasmine simply warmed by the real civet and musks inside. It’s not dirty, it’s not extravagant in a more contemporary way (think 70’s/80’s stunners); it’s simply beautiful. Jasmine and I have a love/hate relationship. I adore the flower itself, the smell in the air, sucking the stem and savoring the nectar. I grew among jasmine trees and at night, especially summer, the scent was intoxicating. For me, not one perfume has captured that smell. Some have come close and some are real beauties. Joy here is a trip to my childhood and I finally smell the real thing. Jasmine flower bottled and preserved in a little bottle that serves as perfume history. Beauty from a time, not so long ago, when quality was the measure up and houses like Patou produced ART, even if the financial gains where next to nothing. Who would today, in their sanity, bottle a perfume so expensive to make, that there is zero profit from sales? Aside from this little story, what predominates on my skin other than the jasmine, is a shy rose. Shy because my skin doesn’t bring it forward. The star is jasmine, while all the other notes simply enhance it. It feels and smells rich, rounded, warm, well put together. Nothing screams, nothing smells out of place. The sandalwood is creamy, real sandalwood, the oakmoss albeit not strong, is wonderful. And the civet, my beloved civet, has manners, simply providing the necessary warmth that Joy needs to shine. And the musk, beautiful sexy musk! I didn’t think it’d be this good, and I’m happy to report it holds up to its status. Times like these I wish I could time travel and buy perfume from when everyone thought it would be this good forever. Trust me, if you come along bottles that have the baudruchage seal intact, invest. Perfumes so well made that stand the test of time decades later, willing to unfold under a perfume lovers nose! Obviously, the Joy made today it’s not the same. IFRA happened, laws about allergens came into play, many ingredients became banned or simply disappeared, naturals are very expensive, and tastes changed. But the edp I own from 2013, from Designer Parfums, is very near, very true to what Joy is all about, and given the circumstances exceedingly well made. Yes, it’s a bit more shrill, more commercially friendly, but it still smells like it, and I’m happy to see that, at least now, Patou is in good hands and that it’s perfumes haven’t followed the footsteps of other once glorious brands. My little snuff bottle will serve as my drug, when only the costliest perfume in the world will do!

Oh my... this is eye-wateringly good! This perfume is incredibly well-blended and of incredibly high quality, to the point where I can imagine I am in the flower fields of Grasse itself. I can see why this was once upon a time the most expensive perfume in the whole wide world. Joy by Jean Patou is definitely one of the grande dame's of vintage perfumery and it really transports you back to the late 1920's and early 1930's and the rise of Hollywood. I can imagine either an icy blonde like Jean Harlow or Marlene Dietrich wearing this, reclining on their chaise lounges' while wearing fabulous pearly white Vionnet or Gres gowns. Joy has a vintage smell, but I don't find it difficult to wear and it is vintage smelling in the sense that it smells romantic and very grand. A super realistic rose (similar to that in Annick Goutal's Rose Absolue, the only other super realistic rose fragrance I can think of) is definitely the most prominent note straight from the bottle, followed by the unmistakeable jasmine and then the fairly subtle hint of tuberose. To me it is equally both white flowers and rose, with a beautifully powdery and musky base that makes me think of an old Hollywood powder room. The rose in this dominates first, but then the jasmine petals unfurl onto my skin and do their beautifully indolic, sweet and slightly skanky thing. I admit I don't personally smell any of the ylang ylang, though. Joy's sillage carried itself about 6 feet from my skin and I got a good 7 to 8 hours of wear time on myself. You have to spray or dab this perfume with a light hand, since it can get a bit much if you go overboard. I'd say it also suits the spring, fall and winter seasons, but during the summer it would also get too much. It's why I'd recommend Joy de Jean Patou more for a woman for during the evening as well. I personally don't think that it smells at all like Chanel N°5, since I can't smell any aldehydes in Joy and Joy is far more floral smelling than N°5. It has some of Chanel N°5's clean-smelling soapiness though and I can tell that it comes from an era very soon after N°5. (The 1920's and 1930's still have a lot in common stylistically speaking mostly.) I love the beautiful golden bottle with its lovely golden juice inside and the bottle feels heavy and of good heft and quality in my hands. The cap with its gold thread is super pretty too. I am overjoyed that I got this incredibly sophisticated beauty and I'd give this fragrance a 9/10 in total. It is so sad that LVMH discontinued this stunning gem and symbol of the old Haute Couture...

I had been habouring a 10 ml travel size of Joy EDP for a few years. I cannot recall how I got it. Several days ago, I sprayed it on to test it. Stand aside modern Chanel, and make way for Jean Patou. Joy stands up there alongside Chanel No.5. When I was child, I heard Joy's slogan, "The most expensive perfume in the world". I never dreamed that I would be able to experience it. In my mind, that was probably $100,000. As an adult, Joy was swept aside as a memory to make room for the Poisons and their many flankers that have been mass marketed. With Joy, I smell a powdery opening, then floral overload in the mid that opens up to the most delicious and real rose that I have ever smelt - I'm blown away. I'm particularly interested in perfumes that have a reverse pyramid, where the delicate notes are embedded as absoluts in the perfume and come towards the end. (Rather than the typical, soft notes in the opening, a layer of deeper notes in the mid, then woods, resins and amber at the base. Boring!) Joy EDP isn't wearable for me as a day fragrance. It really needs to decloak itself after about an hour. I went on to buy full-sized bottles of the EDP and EDT. The EDP, I will keep for later and the EDT, I plan to wear. Even as a reformulation, the 10ml travel size is excellent. It's sad that Jean Patou fragrances are no longer in production as per the FAQs on their website. LVMH bought the brand a long time ago and then, let the brand die. "Shame, shame, shame!" Look what happened to House Lannister? Then, Dior (owned by LVMH) co opted the name of 'Joy' for their version of Allure Sensualle. How creatively bankrupt. For powdery vintage fragrances, Chanel and Jean Patou are the brands to go for. This is coming from someone who owns 30 Guerlain fragrances. I have since stocked up on Joy, Joy Forever, 1000 and Sublime. I fear that I do not have time to test those fragrances and research other Jean Patou fragrances before they are gone. I hope that LVMH invests in and revitalises this brand? There are only so many syrupy sweet blackcurrant, berry, anise, lavender, fruitchoulis the market can tolerate. (Is this because real sugar, berries, pepper, coffee, anise, lavender, almond, coconut etc - basically, food have IFRA approval, so they keep appearing in perfumes? Is this trend to go on?) Old will become new again. If LVMH do keep Jean Patou fragrances in production, then please do justice to its heritage and use quality absoluts.

My mum told me about this perfume about 10years back she was enthused by its magical scent. I saw it on Ebay the other night and it was a fantastic price so l thought why not? It's just arrived and the bottle is truly beautiful really expensive looking. I feel that it should be a 100mls though by todays normal perfume measurements, so the bottle from the front looks chunky and square but from the side is the width of a 100ml bottle of Chanel no 5. The liquid is that darker yellow gold colour that expensive perfumes usually are. The fragrance....oh my, its lovely. Roses roses and more roses l literally can't smell anything else and thats fine with me. Its literally like im sitting here with my face pushed in a bunch of freshly cut pink roses and I'm breathing in the fragrance that seems to grow with each inhale. I can almost feel the soft cool petals against my skin. Its done so well. Its so feminine and joyful. When l think of rose perfume l always think of cheap drugstore old lady perfume that's harsh and chemically. This is fabulous though. It was a blind buy for me but l trust my mums nose, so l had to buy it and I'm so glad l did. I think a woman of any age above 20 can wear this perfume. I don't think its really a mans perfume though, its too pretty and feminine and I'm a person that feels that only humans ascribe a gender to a fragrance when anyone can wear a smell. But saying that, if l smelled a man wearing this scent, l would definitely think it would be a bit strange. If you love the smell of roses this is for you. Update after wearing it today l find its longevity makes it not worth buying again for me. The roses bloom and smell vibrant but as soon as the 3hour point comes the fragrance has completely disappeared on me. Not even a settled creamy musk left literally nothing its like l never sprayed anything on my skin at all, its very strange no other perfume I've tried has ever just evaporated with no trace, there is always a slight sweetness or faint vanilla left. If l was out for a long day l would have to take the bottle out with me to keep topping up and that's far too much effort. An expensive perfume should last. I give this a 7 out of 10. Gorgeous bottle and scent, affordable price too, but it doesn't last. Such a shame.

What a bitter disappointment. I remember the smell of Joy from my childhood. My mother had a bottle purchased in the Bahamas on a family vacation when I was eight years old. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever smelled. My untrained nose was only able to single out the smell of rose, but I just remember how lush it was, like a beautiful bouquet of roses. I recently purchased a 1 oz bottle of EDP and I am heartbroken. All I can smell are the aldehydes. There is a touch of rose and jasmine peeking through once it begins to settle, but it never gets s chance to fully develop on my skin because it completely disappears in less than an hour. Gone. I had a similar experience purchasing a small bottle of vintage Chanel No. 22 pure perfume years ago. I was overwhelmed by aldehydes! Having purchased it from Ebay, I reasoned that it might have turned. I knew the risk of purchasing through Ebay, and it was able to develop, though the effect was fleeting. I need to find a way to salvage this. I am not one for layering as I like to experience the creator's vision on it's own. Perhaps I can purchase a body cream to enhance it. But for now, my small bottle sits there, beautiful in it's crystal glory, and I feel like a little piece of my childhood has gone for good! ______ Edit: I just purchased a 4 piece coffret of Patou classics, which contains Joy EDP along with Joy Forever, 1000, and Sublime. I purchased mostly to sample 1000 (Mille) and Sublime, but I am very curious to see how the small dabber of Joy holds up compared to my current spray EDP. I plan to decant them all into atomizers, as I am not a fan of sabers, but will try Joy dabbed on first. Will update once they arrive! Okay - gave her a go with the new bottle. The first bottle is definitely past it's prime. One drop on my wrist and the fullness of this classic was obvious. The insoles were a bit strong for my liking, but settled down after about an hour. Still not the same smell I remember though, and I am wondering if my mother had the EDT. I am glad I have the EDP in my collection, but now I need to sample the EDT. Any Fragrantistas out there with the EDT willing to do a decant in exchange for a decant from my collection? If so, please send me a private message!

[400] Joy is a bona fide classic scent that evokes old-style feminine glamour. Infamously, it was once the most expensive perfume in the world - shortly after the Great Depression, which somehow didn't hamper its success. A bouquet in a bottle, Joy beautifully showcases all aspects of its rich florals. It is green yet carnal, waxy yet powdery, sweet yet soapy, fruity yet creamy - I could go on. Multifaceted and complex, it is cohesive and well-composed. While it is often dismissed as an "old lady scent" today, most of the best perfumes are, in fact, old lady scents! Joy is an aptly-named, opulent, luscious floral. I have a very old miniature EDT without a barcode. Joy opens with lush florals from initial spray. Rich, photorealistic rose leads the way, initially slightly green and dewy, but unfurling to become a lush, sweet, powdery rose note. A hint of peach adds some juicy sweetness here. There is a bright aldehydic soapiness to the opening - I think aldehydes must be present in the lighter concentrations. I've never smelled Eau de Joy, but I believe aldehydes are present there too. It is reminiscent of Chanel No. 5 and Amouage Gold - the best aldehydic florals I have ever smelled. Joy EDT (at least my vintage version from c. 1970s) is up there with them. Creamy white florals round out the honeyed rose beautifully after a little while. Sweet ylang ylang adds a slight tropical edge, while smooth, waxy tuberose adds its carnal richness. The jasmine note is slightly indolic, adding a hint of dirt, and I get iris or orris root during the later stages of Joy, giving a nice powdery start to the drydown. Woody notes emerge as it dries down, grounding the powdery florals of the late stages beautifully. Rose is still most prominent note here, and it fades to a powdery floral skin scent after several hours. Some clean musk adds a nice animalic hint to the drydown. Sillage is moderate and longevity is day-long, even for the EDT. They really don't make them like they used to. Opulent yet utterly elegant, Joy is a timeless feminine classic. I must compare this EDT to the vintage parfum, which I suspect is like this but in full bloom. A masterpiece. 5/5.

I remember smelling Joy for the first time somewhere in the late seventies or early eighties. It must have been a promotional vial in one of those cute cards. It was like a supernova of fresh flowers, and like many people already stated: I'd never smelled anything like it. Why I didn't buy the perfume then, or put ut on my wish list for my birthday, I still don't know. But here we are, many years later, rekindling my love of perfumes, walking past TKMaxx and casting a fleeting glimpse in the window. What, Joy? Here? Buy, because even it's a third, fourth or umpteenth iteration it must still be good. It must be! Even if it's not sitting on a shelf in a perfume store where you already feel luxurious looking in the window and they treat you with all 'egards', something that would have been fitting for this brand and perfume, but tucked away between other sellout frags looking irreverent and tired in their dusty boxes. I rescued the 2 little bottles of 30 ml edt, because that's all they had. At home I first checked the batch numbers (as if bracing myself for impact). Turns out they 're probably from 2023. So, thinking I struck a planetoid made of pure diamonds is a bit grandiose, but would it be a lowly meteorite? Would it have been knocked out of orbit by IFRA? How much would it have morphed over time? Well people, I can reveal the current Joy is no supernova or giant space diamond, but it's still a glorious solar flare. A wonderful abundance of ripe white flowers, almost overripe, fresh, heady, warm, radiant. I get no civet-type smells. It wraps around me like curtains of Joyous Borealis and it stays there for a good 12 hours. Edt! Apparently my skin and this fragrance are made for each other. So, the current Joy may not match the memory I have of that first burst, pristine as only a memory can be, but to me it's still a shard of light and I love it so much I'm buying even more little bottles. Grab your ray while you can 😉 before the show's over.

I own a vintage black snuff bottle edition of JOY parfum, bottled in November 1978. When I acquired it last year, although the bottle was unopened, the golden sealing thread had already been darkened by seepage, and the inside of the box was stained from within. It would be hard to say this bottle had been perfectly preserved... And yet, the moment I opened it, the scent that poured forth was beautiful enough to bring a fifty-year-old garden to life before my eyes. Perhaps the aldehydes had long since slipped away through the tiniest gaps in the bottle, escaping past the seal into the air. In their place came a heady surge of white flowers—an overwhelming flood of genuine jasmine. From behind that jasmine, a creamy floral nuance flickers—perhaps from ylang-ylang or tuberose. And the rose: no longer green or youthful, but deep, noble, and richly fragrant—befitting the queen of flowers. The civet and musk, which were likely still natural at the time, lend a soft, animalic warmth—rounded, velvety, and quietly sensual. That such a fragrance remains so vivid, lush, and alive after nearly fifty years leaves me in awe. What I experience in this bottle is not merely “joy,” but something closer to intoxication—or even ecstasy. It was born during the Great Depression, a time when people could scarcely imagine a brighter tomorrow. (And truthfully... that doesn’t feel so far removed from our own times.) To think of those who encountered this scent back then—a perfume like a heavenly garden filled with all the happiness one could imagine—and to imagine that within it they found a thread of hope—like the hope left behind in Pandora’s box— ...it moves me deeply. Without a doubt, JOY is a fragrance of historical importance, a true olfactory monument, the greatest floral perfume of the 20th century, and a timeless masterpiece.

This Grand Dame is an unapologetic indolic jasmine/rose/yilang floriental, emblematic of times when perfume actually smelled like perfume. I love Pandarapt's review below. I agree, this composition "is so pure and exact..." Even after IFRA reformulation, Joy EDP is fine perfumery that projects at arm's length for approximately 5-6 hours and can live as a skin scent up to 24 hrs. Upon news of the brand's purchase by LVMH, I bought 5 bottles of the EDP and 2 vintage parfums. I just couldn't bear the thought of another reformulation of this classic, after Jean Patou fought for so long to stay true to its client base, even if the formula was too expensive to produce a healthy profit margin. Furthermore, I'm embarrassed to admit, I had never purchased Joy until now. I believe it a responsibility to support independent businesses that do their job well, and I failed to fulfill said responsibility. Jean Patou's Joy, is the first fragrance I remember being aware of, as the concept of perfume entered my consciousness. I was between 4 and 5 years old. It was with this fragrance, that my mother taught me, fine things come in small packages and she taught me how to apply perfume on my neck and wrists. She always kept a lovely black little bottle with red stopper of the pure parfum on her dressing table and would wear it on special occasions. When the bottle would reach its near end, she would fill it half way with almond oil and pass it down to me. This for me, was my greatest treasure. I would often wear it around the house along with my mother's heels, her costume jewelry and hand-me-down make up. Pandarapt below is right: This classic is "worthy of any perfume lover ́s devotion." It certainly has mine.

An indolic, spicy and animalic lemonade. There's not really any other way I can describe my experience with this fragrance; I love it! I'm not sure what it is about it, there's just something entirely magical about it - the aldehydes just do something to me. Like with most aldehyde fragrances, it makes my tummy feel so strange. If anyone knows why this may be, feel free to explain it because I just don't get it... it's a bit of a fun mystery. I've worn the parfum and EDT. I think my favourite version is the EDT - the one I've purchased. It lasts quite a while on me and I found the parfum to be a bit too civet heavy, which I don't particularly enjoy admittedly. I prefer my Joy to be light and airy, effortless. I get 7+ hours on Joy EDT which is more than enough for my day-to-day activities. When I first purchased this, I admittedly forgot that I'd tried it in other versions. It was, essentially, a blind buy. A $60 one, though, which was completely justifiable to me. I was sitting alone at a rooftop bar and sprayed a bit one while feeling a bit tipsy and waiting to meet a date. My nose went on a trip, I'll tell you that. I almost cried from how beautiful I found it. The jasmines were in full bloom, the sun was out and it was raining just a bit. Then a full bodied rose surrounded with aldehydes that added that lemonade sparkle with the softest amount of civet. It all amounted to a very enjoyable experience. Is this one of my favourite fragrances? At the moment, yes. I have many, but this has been a favourite ever since purchasing. I don't wear it too often, but it fullfills every desire I could ever have from a fragrance (at this current time). It's just amazing, really.

To break the record for the amount of jasmine and roses used, at least 10,000 jasmines and 28 bouquets of roses are required for every 1 ounce of fragrance, regardless of cost. Designer Jean Patou took this as a gift to his former guests. The explosive output of indole. If you don't want to disturb your colleagues, one drop is fine. This fragrance is always the best. The one in hand is not parfum, so so far, I have never experienced real JOY. The JOY I smell is pure and transparent jasmine, which is slightly different from the real flowers in nature... Tuberose, who plays the role of the spirit behind it, is tightly attached to the jasmine and follows it like a shadow. The bright aldehyde chirped loudly and made a deafening sound, like an alarm, to make people around you retreat far away, so as not to be impacted by the aftermath. Distance produces beauty. After three minutes, the scent suddenly disappeared, making me wonder if the olfactory system was disrupted by high-intensity indole. Some people say that JOY does not actually have a separate type of EAU DE JOY. If there is, it is likely to be a light version that the company has reconfigured for customer needs. The structure is similar, but the weight ratio of various fragrance materials is different from the essence. EDT appropriately weakens indole and civet, giving consumers a lighter and easier-to-wear option. Those who have tried JOY, either love or hate. The polarized experience reflects the characteristics of JOY itself - it has a dual character, or it is straight and rude, or it is beautiful and grand. Two drops, overlapping the musk covering the surface of the skin. This can last until sleep time.

Years ago I had a bottle of Joy body lotion, which I hoarded like the Rheingold for years and genuinely mourned when I used the last drop. I was skeptical about this fragrance because it seemed weirdly affordable (for a single ounce, that is--less expensive than some of the Chanel perfumes I love, like Misia), but the instant it bloomed on my inner elbow I recognized it as that distinctive Joy scent I love so, so much. This must be the source of all my love of florientals; the combination of the rose, sandalwood, and jasmine is indescribably pretty, and I don't really pick up on the civet note, thank god (I love cats beyond all measure but my love does not extend to their excreta). I keep thinking I smell lilac, but it must be iris--the rose, of course, comes right through, as does the jasmine. I really like the creamy powdery notes as well--it reminds me pleasantly of the kind of fancy cold creams that ladies used to use at their vanities. Update: 9/15/23: I love Joy as much as ever, maybe more so. It literally makes me euphoric when I get a whiff of my inner elbow--a wild concatenation of rose, jasmine, iris!--but tragically my husband has decided that he doesn't really care for it anymore, never mind that he is the one who got me hooked on it, years ago, with a gift of the Joy lotion. He says that he discerns a rubbery note, which might be the "doll's head" element that others have noticed. I hope he changes his mind and starts to like it again. At least it's not projecting too much a few hours post-application.

I am not a fragrance expert, but most have some note or another that I don't favor. It's rare to find one I really like. I've become fascinated by the history of Joy by Jean Patou although I've never experienced the original costly formulation. Yesterday I received a small EDP of Joy, the most recent (?) and discontinued Designer Parfums version, made in France. When I first applied two smidgens to each wrist I thought it was going to be too strong for me. I gravitate toward the lighter florals and fresh scents and apply with a light hand. Happily, I did not detect any poo or stale notes. Then after thirty or forty minutes I absolutely fell in love with it! It had become a much softer mostly floral scent but with hints of something very unique, like nothing else I've tried. (I suppose that's its magic.) I couldn't get enough of it! It did not last as long as I'd hoped, or perhaps I just didn't apply enough. That doesn't matter, though; I can reapply a bit. I've already ordered a larger bottle of EDT to try and will also order a larger bottle of the EDP while I can get it. (I cannot find it locally but found it at a reputable online fragrance retailer.) I can understand why Joy was a classic. Even in this last reformulation it is still amazing. I can only imagine what the original must have been. It's unfortunate that Joy has been discontinued. (And what are the new owners thinking, marketing a different Dior perfume with the name "Joy"?! For shame!)

Joy has always been an object of desire and a symbol of luxury. It was created to be polarizing and accessible to only few lucky people. It was the favorite of many divas such as Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, María Félix and many others. It’s price and the story behind it made Joy a legend and yes, having Joy meant the joy of having the fortune of affording it. Times changed and suddenly tastes changed, advertising faded and somehow despite it’s similarities to other classics like Chanel N5, sales dropped. Last year Joy was sadly discontinued but I am a proud owner of perhaps the last two bottles of edt and edp. I don’t think I will wear Joy except maybe on María Félix birthday, as a tribute but I will keep it as a treasure of that golden era now gone forever. The smell? Elegant, very ladylike, powerful, a mix between N5 and First by Van Cleef and Arpels but on steroids. Not for everyone and for sure many will dislike it. However I adore it for what it is and how wonderfully it performs on my skin. Dark rose, indolic jasmine, strong tuberose and stinky civet but worked out so perfectly one has to surrender to it’s bizarre beauty when you really appreciate classic jewels from a glorious and gorgeous era. This is an extraordinary and glamorous perfume like no other. I won’t go into details about the crime they made when using it’s name for the new perfume by Dior. What a disgrace! Let’s make a moment of silence and say Joy forever!

Joy is generally regarded as one of the greatest perfumes ever made, and I found myself agreeing as soon as this precious liquid touched my skin. This was a scent which, at the time, was the most expensive perfume in the world - double the price of gold bullion - which was released shortly after Wall Street crashed. Instead of shelving the project, Patou went ahead with the release and it became a worldwide sensation. I managed to find an amazingly well-kept vintage parfum online, and I truly believe this is one of, if not the, greatest floral fragrance ever created. Every 30ml bottle contains 10,000 jasmine blossoms and 336 roses with a whisper of civet - a scent profile which is undeniably joyous. It thrives in the simplicity of its composition, as there is nowhere to hide or cut corners. The success of this scent relies almost entirely on the astounding quality of the finest materials in the world. It doesn’t smell like the jasmine fragrances you find in todays market, overly clean, soapy and synthetic. Instead, it’s intensely thick and indolic, sultry and slightly lustrous with that delicate hint of civet. It’s undeniably Jasmine and rose, done to perfection. It makes you realise just how much passion and dedication went into perfume at this time. A true masterpiece.

This is my third review of Joy EDP. In one of my previous reviews I mentioned how I remember this from my youth as being dominated by a beautiful rose, but that it was no longer as pronounced as it once was. I also mentioned that I was reluctant to layer such a classic because I am a purist!! Silly me - it occured to me that through reformulation, it is different from what it once was, so layering it isn't exactly messing with the performer's artistic vision. Besides, if it smells good, do it. Anyway, I am writing about this yet again because yesterday I received a big bottle of Tea Rose by Perfumer's Workshop - stunning in it's on right and an absolute steal price wise. Today I experienced a scent memory with Tea Rose - THIS was very much like the rose I got from Joy all those years ago. So of course, I layered them. Bliss!! I think I am going to make a little spray bottle for myself - 3/4 Joy EDP combined with 1/4 Tea Rose. It's harder to control the intensity just by spraying both, but I have to say that the combo just makes my experience with Joy more harmonious. If you have one of the newer bottles and find it lacking, I highly recommend you invest $12-15 and purchase a bottle of Tea Rose EDT. I couldn't be more pleased with the result!

I had a small sample of Joy several years ago which I acquired for my perfume education sake. I did not dislike it then but neither did it do fireworks for me enough to buy a big bottle. Turns out, simply because a tiny sample was not enough to appreciate it in full. After Miguel Matos dropped the bomb news about it being discontinued, I rushed to buy a bottle on principle. And let me tell you, it's just... a joy to wear. Now in grey and cold November I reach for it without thinking every day. I am into essential oils and I have jasmine and rose damascene absolutes. Joy smells like pure jasmine tinged with a bit of rose, civet just gives longevity to this duo. It's really that simple. I live in Spain where jasmine overflows garden fences like a weed and it's a joy to walk down the street in the evening breathing jasmine perfumed air in summer. But if you stick your nose right into the heart of the jasmine star and inhale deeply, you will gag in 3 seconds and think a cat peed nearby under the fence. Don't rub your nose into your wrist trying to get Joy better. Enjoy the aura that floats about you. Because that's how people around you perceive it at arm's length - a happy, joyful and elegant scent of carefree southern summer.

Like Shalimar, Chanel No.22 and other greats, the composition of Joy is so pure and exact, it renders the fiction of perfume invisible and makes it feel not as a wear but as an identity that you take over or decide to cohabitate. The realism of the flowers do not seem to suffer the downgrade that usually occurs when they are cast down from nature to essence, they transition unscathed from shrub to bottle, fleshy and full botanical, the jasmine and the rose are wholly discernible, even insular, living together in isolation like limbs matching in a body. A thick, chewy ambergris and conspicuous civet enhances its corporeality and infuses it with more than a touch of amorality and baroque extravagance. Joy may be submerged in her own ladylike fantasies but the tramp drifts to the surface revealing she really is an unrepentant hedonist at heart. She wears real pearls and coiffed hair but is the last to leave the roadstead bars. A cemented classic worthy of any perfume lover ́s devotion and I have night terrors remembering LVMH owns it now.