Jontue

Jontue, just like the rest of the bunch of the era (Charlie, Cerissa, Ciara, etc) smells like a million bucks, lasts and radiates like a powerhouse and has the quality of vintage Haute Parfumerie at drugstore cost. Those ethereal 70’s to early 80’s green florals were the best in their category. They ate! Review for the 70’s version edt. Jontue is just mesmerizing! From the slightly green and powdery opening, to the deeper herbal shade that follows along the rich white florals, to the mossy and slightly skanky drydown, it never seizes to amaze me! For department store counter level, you had Chloé, Anais Anais, Fidji, Estee, Infini, Calandre. But for drugstore prices sans drugstore quality you had Jontue among others. Times when quality was abundant and price wasn’t a measure. Quality blending; from the soft shade of galbanum, to the more rich pine and cypress, all the way to a true to life gardenia and tuberose. Oakmoss and musk galore. A touch of civet. Creamy Mysore sandalwood and soft hued woody notes that smell like a forest. Slightly spicy but never over the top. A powdery, mossy, animalic persistence that clings to skin like a lovers embrace. This is strong. Aldehydes and powdery notes to lift it. Not particularly citrusy or fresh, but more ethereal and persistent. Hazy shades of purple and pink and green amidst a brownish background. This particular category is one of my favorites, after heavy, pissy, filthy animalics. While the era gave us many many wonderful scents, Jontue is the one I would keep if I only had to pick one. Well, Jontue and Chloé. And probably Estee. And Anais...sorry, can’t pick just one! Same ballpark as the rest but not redundant. Each showcased different notes, aspects, mood. For vintage lovers, it’s imposible to pick one! Jontue notes: Bergamot-Neroli-Orange Blossom-Peach-Gardenia-Hyacinth-Chamomile-Cypress Janine-Ylang Ylang-Rose-Iris-Violet-Tuberose-Sage-Carnation-Geranium-Mimosa-Honeysuckle-Narcissus Oakmoss-Patchouli-Vetyver-Musk-Sandalwood-Benzoin-Coriander-Civet

"Jontue: a beautiful fragrance, but not too far from innocence," went the 1977 commercial which I just watched again on YouTube. :D The commercial seems silly and doesn't really make sense -- interspersing images of a young woman in a field with a white horse near castle ruins, with images of a dark young man manning a sailboat -- but the perfume is absolutely lovely! While I've been an inveterate perfume user and collector since the late 1970's, I don't remember having a bottle of Jontue, and I can't imagine why because it's great! Jontue is a field of oakmossy wildflowers with a dry herbaceous/aromatic aspect. It starts out with a strong, smoky, oakmoss note and greenness or grassiness, along with a bitter sharpness of (maybe?) the cypress and sage that is a bit reminiscent of Elizabeth Arden's Blue Grass (1936). It smells much more expensive than it is (I paid around $12!) and, as a mossy floral, reminds me a lot of classic Chanel (Chanel No. 19 or 22?) or Estee Lauder perfumes, sharing their well-blended elegance. An earlier reviewer mentioned that she detects a similarity to Charlie (1973) and I do, too, but it's underneath the top notes. In the same way that many Guerlain scents have that Guerlainade "je ne sais quoi" underneath the differing top and mid notes, Charlie and Jontue maybe share a characteristic Revlon base. My fears about the typical poor longevity of inexpensive perfume turned out to be completely unfounded in the case of Jontue. It stayed on my skin for hours, and was beautiful from start to finish. Jontue is one of my new favorites. If you're a lover of classic Chanel or Estee Lauder oakmoss florals, you should give Jontue a try.

Jontue came from a time when the income gap wasn't so cavernous, and the affordable and sensible spray and go fragrance purchased from the local drugstore could co-exist with the more luxuriant perfumes and the miasma of cigarette smoke and car exhaust. It could be placed in one's pocketbook along with a roll of Certs and applied as a pick-me-up from the drudgery of the day. Revlon's Jontue was the budget escape to an enchanted garden, fields of chamomile, gardenia bushes, and mimosa trees in bloom, somehow all at once, defying their natural inclinations. Not to mention a warm sandalwood mingling with oakmoss and vetiver in its base. It is a simple, sensual pleasure, a welcome diversion from heavy complexity and the tired arguments of what is quality perfume. Quality to whom? To someone in Soho in 2023? To a country club in the Hamptons? To the zombies of late-stage Capitalism? A quality experience is a personal principle. Trash and treasures are all on a level playing field to the expansive universe, so why not let go of pretense and see if something simple and delightful is liberating? Jontue's hazy floral glow, earthy, mossy embrace is liberating. Also, I recall being drawn to that jaunty script that spells out "Jontue'' on the boxes and bottles as a child and thinking, "fancy". That in itself is a warm, fuzzy memory.

I worked in a hospital when this perfume came out in 1976. My patients, most of whom were very ill and some nauseous, complimented me on the way I smelled (we really weren't even supposed to be wearing any fragrance, but I smoke cigarettes - I didn't want them to smell that!). Today I received the first bottle of Jontue I've had since the early 1980s. I purchased it from Amazon Prime for under $10 with free shipping. When I first sprayed just a slight amount on myself, I was appalled! I didn't recall it being so pungent - it took only fifteen minutes or so for the "stale" smell to go away and for the full fragrance of Jontue to come forth. It's a beautiful, feminine floral with a hint of patchouli in the under tones, something I'd nearly forgotten until today. If I can't afford what I really love most (see profile) this will be my everyday fragrance from here on (unless I find my old bottle of patchouli somewhere around here).

I don’t know why I slept on this. I really resonate with this gauzy, mossy, springtime sundress floral. It is quite light, but lasts an impressively long time. The current version I have features a whisper of that modern oak moss substitute accord that, while certainly not the real thing, lends a certain forest-like velvet that really sets this apart from other feathery, dreamy floral based scents. I definitely get mostly florals wrapped in gauze: gardenia, and chamomile made extra golden with mimosa. It’s like walking in a May field full of swaying grass and wildflowers—-it reminds me of Eowyn from Lord of the Rings, smiling coyly at Faramir when the war has ended and the shadows have lifted. I get excited when good things are accessible, and this is downright ethereal if you’ve ever been the sort of person who reads fantasy novels in the shade of an oak tree on a sunny day.