Habanita

Molinard - Habanita (1921) EdT, Vintage from the 1980s, splash "I see you undressing me with your eyes... Don't stop now, you're only half done...". Every year on my birthday, I decide to be extravagant and douse myself in a vintage collectable from my little stash of treasures. I had a few in mind for 26, but as fate worked its magic, a beautiful vintage splash bottle of Molinard Habanita in EdT, which I'd ordered from a fantastic seller on Etsy (Hanna if you're reading this, you're an absolute star) based out in Italy. What would you know, the gods that govern logistics and international shipping decided to bring in this bundle of wonderfulness on my birthday, and I simply couldn't be happier. The most sumptuous packaging befitting Habanita, from the 'roses on black' gift wrapping paper, the gorgeous bows, the little ornamentation, the gilded envelope and golden seals, I only wish I could've done an unboxing for ya'll because Hanna's packaging was so grand. She even sent me the gift of a necklace for my dear mum, since I'd told her during one of our conversations that it was from my mum that I get my taste in perfumery, for she had wondered how a 25-year-old lad came to love a grand dame of the likes Habanita. I have forever been in love with Habanita, I have it in the sublime, and very true to the original, EdP recreation and in the newly imagined La Cologne as well. Before I delve deep into the vintage, I must say that Habanita in EdP as it is now available remains a very successful reformulation and is oft praised by many a critic as being a very close approximation of the vintage EdT, which has been discontinued for a while now. So fret not if you can't get your hands on a vintage EdT or Parfum, the EdP is a good reach too. History, the beginnings are interesting because Habanita was never really conceived as a perfume, it was supposed to scent cigarettes. Just so that the rebellious flappers of the 20s could appear elegant whilst being chain smokers and not simply reek of stale cigarette smoke. This is the very first 'tobacco' perfume, but it doesn't contain a hint of tobacco. Though having said that I think that honour technically goes to Caron's Tabac Blond, I'm not too sure what the general consensus on this is. You could buy sachets of Habanita to put in your cigarette cases (so that the scent would permeate into your cigarettes) or a tiny liquid vial with a glass rod to drip a little of the liquid directly into a cigarette and thus perfume the smoke that emanated. If only millennial-cool Emily knew that her great-grandma Helen was the original vape girl, oh well. I believe somewhere down the line people simply started using Habanita to scent themselves directly, which is when Molinard decided to bring it out formally as a perfume to be applied on oneself, 1921 being the widely accepted launch year for the perfume. To me, Molinard exemplifies the true essence of French perfumery from Grasse, with Habanita boasting a supposed 600 ingredients in all, working to create a nuanced melange of sultry, purring notes and accords. Bottle, it is a gorgeously moulded Lalique flacon, an original creation of Rene Lalique, with the murals of many a lady in their nakedness cheekily attempting to cover themselves with shawls. Probably my favourite perfume bottle design. The screw cap is beaten golden metal and filigreed. It is a splash bottle. Scent, in this vintage EdT, it opens rather differently compared to the EdP, the butch Leather is front and centre from the absolute start, with the Galbanum, Petit Grain and most importantly the Mastic gum resin peeking in shyly, the Leather decides to let the top notes sway in and out of stage curtains giving you a momentary freshness from the Petit Grain (far too shortlived) the tiniest bit of mildly green-resinous-dustiness ala Galbanum and the Mastic. Note: Mastic is a resin from Yemen, obtained from a shrub and smells a bit like pine tree resin and follows after olibanum in scent profile. Milky tree sap? The Leather in here is NOT the oddness that prevails in modern perfumery and does in no way smell like car seats and the like. It smells like Leather that is worn against bare skin, salted by sweat and has a slightly funky overtone to it thanks to the undertone of Musk. Mind you the original formula for Habanita is a 'Russian Leather' base, it was never a simple Leather construct to begin with. But the heart is important because it is what helps restrain the otherwise potent Leather accord, the Nutmeg and Heliotrope are most potent giving it the signature spiced powder feel. Habanita is spicy and it is powdery, of its Guerlain peers Shalimar and L'Heure Blue, and distant Caron cousin Tabac Blond, this is by far the most focussed on the spice of the three and there is unparalleled depth and floral darkness here. There is an oiliness from the dense and rather indolic florals, the Grasse jasmine, the Rosa centifolia and Ylang-Ylang bring in the sweetness but the 'sweetness is cut' and grounded by the Vetiver and Cedarwood in the heart. There's enough in here to tame any manner of sweetness. There's also an odd Raspberry note which plays a very adept game of 'hide and seek' and is only perceptible when your skin warms up. This Raspberry note is nowhere to be found in the EdP. The powderiness here is thick, in a mature and rather sensual way, there is something about this that would make one think of the smell of well-worn and broken-in Leather which has been powdered to mask the scent of wear. The base is heavy and with a Benzoin-forward Amber, a perceptible dose of Vanilla, Patchouli, Oakmoss, and the aforementioned Musk which ISN'T 'clean' thankfully. Feel, this has never been a simple, decent fragrance, in every day and age this has been the scent of the morally dubious seductress, it is only for the femme fatale and she doesn't border on the spectrum of the good or the kind, bad is in her bone and she's smirking at you even when you tell her she owns your heart, she loves you sure, but with irony. The powder is proper and the leather is lustful. Habanita's elegance is only skin deep, a deeply disturbing voluptuousness lies barely hidden from the discerning eye. This is probably why I relate immensely to Habanita, there is a side to me that is prim, proper and preppy but that's just the face that deals with the world at large and there is a darker bit of debauched longing lurking deep beneath, if you've been privileged enough to see that side, I've probably marked you with my teeth or nails, and if I've been subtle I've left you with a bruised heart. Your very own, The Perfume Vigilante

I believe most people don't understand this perfume because it was created to evoke a place and time that no longer exists. When I first tested it, I felt like it was taking me back to the time it was created. I know my history, and what scents people loved, and why, in eras long gone. Production of perfumes have changed in our time, and so have tastes, but back in the early 1920's and over the turn-of-the-19th-century, the orientalist art movement helped influence major imports of Asian and Middle Eastern culture, including exotic fruits and incense, deepening base notes for their lasting, mysterious power making women's perfume sink into clothing long after it's been washed off from skin. The labor of washing clothing took a lot more work, and your most delicate underclothes, ones you couldn't just scrub over your laundry board, you'd just air dry with a few sprays of your loudest perfume! Hence the saying of things smelling like a French whore house because often times working girls were the only ones who could afford those expensive oriental perfumes, so strong they masked any body odor, or blended with it to create an altogether different scent! The heart notes where floral, a bright mixture that often was a crushed mixture of the best, loudest scents from spring and summer to have all year long. Your top notes were ones that were slightly fruity, a gentle opening on the nose before the musk and woods invite you into the "room" or experience of the fragrance. The perfume itself was an experience, like savoring a glass of wine -- you smell it at intervals to let it open each note to you -- and Molinard's Habanita is like a elegant 1920's lady giving you a tour into her mansion... first she leads you through the garden, then into the hallway, then finally into her salon where trails of incense burn, you can smell the old, aged leather of her furniture, and the slight stale smell of aged pipe tobacco smoke from a distance where her husband, no doubt, has decided to hide away from the limelight while she entertains her guests of the evening. If you've ever been invited to a very old, historic house where all the furniture is just as old as the house, and even though everything has been restored, it has that sense of place accompanied with the sweet stench of decay (cracked leather that's almost like rubber hide, plus powered wood with a bit of green mold). Marry that to the scent of cut flowers that aren't so fresh from the outside garden -- we're talking flowers the favorite flowers every grandmother's grandmother's grandmother has planted for generations and more: lilacs, roses, heliotrope, honeysuckles, hyacinth, orange blossoms, apple blossoms, everything-blossoms -- all flowers no longer living, cut in vases that haven't yet been refreshed, so you still smell the hint of that humid hit of dying boutique, like being at a funeral. But then at this house you're served something sweet, tarts or pie like peach cobbler, strawberry rubarb, or your glass is filled with sweet summer raspberry wine/cordial, and you get the complexity of how this scent works. This perfume is a place! It's there for the elite few who like the luxury of this atmosphere that once was the playhouse for the rich and famous from a bygone era. Next time you take a sniff of Habanita, don't just "wear" it, spray it and let it dry on your skin, wait a few seconds for the scent to dry, don't rub it in, close your eyes and then slowly smell, letting each note open new doors for you. You might experience something different each time. For me, it was time travel.

Yes!...I've discovered that Habanita is quite the dark little treasure! It just arrived in the mail yesterday and,I must say,I was pleasantly surprised. The initial application (yesterday) was..at first....a blast of dusty-waxy roses then somewhat quickly it morphed into a thick, warm smokey vanilla...laced with cigarrette smoke....then finally a long lingering baby powder swirled with incense.I really didn't get much in the way of leather. I tried it again this morning and the rosy greeting from yesterday was barely there(boo)....I kind of liked that..it gave it a "vintage cosmetic" smell. Today, it is still lovely but even smokier/spicier and even more vanilla ( like right from the pod...heavy...NOT fluffy.)Still not smellin' the leather...which is really ok with me. Is there such thing as an Oriental-Gourmand? Because I really want to devour my arm....it's like sipping the perfect cup of sweetened black tea....or chai...or something while puffing on an expensive cigarette(and I don't even smoke) I can't quite put my finger on it. I could wear this everyday..I really don't find it too heavy and on me, the projection is minimal.I've already worn it out and about and didn't experience that "oh-s%&t-this-stuff-is-too-strong-in-public" thing that can happen when you leave the house..if you know what I mean. That's probably just my skin as I often have to reapply my fragrances throughout the day. This stuff makes me want to get a fire crackin' in the fireplace, get cozy with a hot cup of something, light some candles and incense and fiddle with my Tarot deck. It's a fabulous Fallish/Wintery way to smell! Just for the heck of it, I tried to "re-create" the smell of Habanita on my other arm using 1 spritz of Cabochard, 2 spritzes of Tabu, 3 of Toujours Moi and 2 of Chloe(to add that soapy/creaminess.) In my personal opinion, it comes pretty close. Habanita is most definitely a vintage smelling perfume and rightfully so. It isn't, however, "old" smelling...or out of date. Not to me anyway. It's classic....dark,powdery,smokey,vanilla....just how I like it! In the Perfume Guide, Luca Turin gives it four stars and names it's overall description as "Vetiver Vanilla" Personally, I'm not getting the vetiver much( I DO love vetiver though.)He does go on to say,however, that the the vetiver and vanilla juxtapose "in such a way that they both disappear and are replaced by something that is not the sum, more like the vector product of the two" I also love the way he describes it as being the "gorgeous hypothetical child" of Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe! EDIT/UPDATE: I have to add to my last reveiw that after wearing Habanita for several hours the second time ( it was a very humid/wet/rainy/cold day) I detected something in the late stages of the drydown that somehow reminded me of bong water.....yes...you heard that right. Now...it's been a while since I've smelled bong water and I really did put alot of thought into what that "curious" note was that I was smelling....it perplexed me for a while until I it finally came to me. It was a dank, earthy, sour-ish sort of smell that had a hay/dead grass thread woven through it. Definitely something that had once been alive and green then transitioned on into something dry,resinous and smoked ( for lack of better description)....hence the "bong water" smell. After even more sniffing and thought, I've decided that I was smelling the elusive Vetiver.....makes sense. Oh...and....this actually added to my positive experience with Habanita. It took away nothing.

(Review of an EdT from the early 1980s) Little Havana is hardly little. There is a very big, old and wisened personality in this bottle. Parts of that personality are warm, friendly, and comforting, yet other parts are rough and tough, loud, and tell you it has seen its fair share of rough times and weathered through all of them - and you are not going to be able to command or intimidate it in the slightest. Habanita was born in a turbulent era, bookended by two world wars but riding a wave of industrialization and progress, both imparting just as much hope and confidence as they do disillusionment and skepticism. Habanita is a complicated individual. Habanita introduces itself to you with a firm and exuberant handshake, an immediate blast of fruity cured tobacco that launches into the air. Brown and green, vanillic and earthy, a touch sweet and a touch sour, dry yet honeyed. The tobacco is relieved of its starring role quite quickly by an extremely spicy heart of clove and nutmeg meaning to pull all moisture out of the air. Bold would be an understatement. It goes up your nose and down the back of your throat with a hot earthy fervor. The tobacco is still very present but it has new and very powerful foils competing for attention. Florals of rose, orris, heliotrope, orange blossom, ylang-ylang and who knows what else have this spicy boot heel on their throats; they’re there, but they are kept down and made quiet. It isn’t until the clove, nutmeg, and tobacco dispense towards the dry down that they are allowed to stand and speak up, but by then they too have mostly lost muster. The rose and orris have the most durability, and are better detectable in the vanillic, leathery, woody amber dry down. Patchouli, sandalwood, benzoin, leather, vetiver, cedar, wisps of oakmoss - every character in the amber and chypre sagas are here to some degree. Most readily apparent is the earthy and resinous vanilla thanks to the patchouli and benzoin, a very dark brown leather, creamy sandalwood, with small threads of green and damp oakmoss weaving its way in and around these other characters. Again, Habanita is a complicated individual. It’s a shape shifter. Changeling. Skinwalker. Protean. Throughout its very long wear time you will feel like you’re wearing several different perfumes. Of the many, many times I’ve worn Habanita nearly every time I’m curious what I’m going to get. It’s not safe, but it’s not dangerous either. It’s not courteous and pretty, it can be quite rude actually, but it’s not a lout hellbent on breaking public decency laws. It’s going to attract attention, and probably blow some minds in the process, so if you’re going to wear it you need to wear it boldly and confidently just like it is. There is no halfway point or timidity with Habanita, though on any given wearing it might present itself to you a bit differently than the last time. While people were rabbiting on about Guerlain and Coty in the early 20th century, Molinard was working away, out of site, like Dr. Frankenstein bringing his monster to life though with the full intention of releasing it upon the populace. That’s why I keep it chained up in my perfume cabinet.

So, I have owned this completely unique and intriguing fragrance for 2 years now. In those 2 years, guess how many times I've worn it? NONE. I've, on occassion, spritzed the tiniest of dabs on at night, just as I'm about to fall asleep, then i forget all about it for a year. Maybe I've just been scared. This is definitely NOT a safe fragrance, especially in the cheap, synthetic candy world we live in today. Well last night, I was feeling a bit nostaligic, vintage and dark and opened my perfume cabinet and there this little bottle sat, staring me in the face. Naturally, because I think this bottle is the greatest thing since sliced bread, I spritzed it on, and climbed into bed. WOW. I have always enjoyed this fragrance, but only now, am I truly appreciating it. Talk about a POWERHOUSE. I found PerfumedBrunette's review so intriguing and the more I read, the more I opened my heart (and my nose) to this masterpiece. What is it about this prefume that is making me feel giddy, sensual and completely confident, all at the same time? It could be the simple fact that it was created in 1921, an era I should have lived and am always searching to recreate in fragrance(although I'm pretty sure I did live there, in my past life, and is why I have such a strong love/connection for all things Deco). Is it the fact that this bottle is the perfect representation of the juice contained with in? I mean, just look at it! Black and gold and Deco all over! How much do we love that Deco Siren on the bottle??!! Yes, its all of those things, but it's also the fact that I am litereally transported back in time. A time when Chinese silk screens lined beautful, dark and opulent lounges. I can place myself in this lounge so easily. I am smoking opium from a hooka, perfectly draped in a deep saphire blue velvet dress, wearing balck lacey lingerie underneath and dripping in Deco jewels on top. Powder puffs scented of dark amber sit on top of a gorgeous vanity, in the womens waiting room. Ladies touching up their lipstick, powdering their noses in the hazey mirror of the smokey air. That's what this smells like to me. Dark powdery amber, laced with resins and lipstick, soaked into velvet and warmed on the skin. A haze of 1920's glamour and Pure.Genius. So today, for the first time, I am going to wear my beatifull Habanita in public and go about my business, knowing that I have a very special, very sexy secret. You will most likely get a whiff of this secret (there's no getting around that) but you'll never guess what it is, unless of course, you are like me and are privey to the special knowledge of this intoxicating creation...and if that's the case, then I think we should be friends. P.S. My husband adores this on me...all the 3 times I think he's actually smelled it. He finds it arousing. That should have sealed the deal for me long ago.