Septieme Sens (7e Sens)

Came across a bunch of my mum's miniatures from the mid 80's - mid 90's and OH MY GOD I've just tried this one, probably not in the best storage conditions but still wearable and I am absolutely in love! It opened with an animalic blast which knocked me off my feet and I've finally understood the true meaning of "this fragrance smells dirty", so if nothing else I'm glad I got to experience a perfume with real civet and castoreum. Which leads me to the fact that the opening was borderline fecal in the best possible way (I sound deranged, I'm aware, but it's one thing reading how these notes behave, another one experiencing it) plus some nondescript white flowers. I couldn't stop smelling my arm every couple of minutes. Minimal oakmoss in my miniature and frankly couldn't be more grateful because I hate the stuff, which is only starting to emerge after nearly an hour alongside some plum that reads quite jammy to me, or it could be the effect of the honey note. Tried this at night and could still smell it in the morning with a quite dry drydown, tempered a bit by musks and amber. Reapplied in the morning and I got the same results throughout the day. I only wish it were more opulent in the drydown, don't know if it's due to the storage conditions, its age or if it's really the fragrance but even so I would gladly get a full bottle of this if it didn't cost an enormity and in any case I will try it again when the weather is cooler, although in the sticky 40*C summer heat is a beast and I love it!

I love it when vintage is like this. At first the scent is, if I'm talking colour-wise, inky, somewhere between dark-blue and violet, it is a plum's shadow... or not. It's plums filled with aldehydes. These are not for eating, but for looking at them and admiring this look. The aldehyded plums lie out there and emit a powerful and a bit sinister, and overall wonderful smell. I like to work when the scent is in this phase, the working goes on well, seriously and clearly. But the scent changes... here come some carnations and a touch of narcissus, and, oh, what beauty is in the scent's аnimalism, coriander, moss, and that growing heavy with moisture and growing light again, gusty wind, and the sun, so warm, so nice!.. I love it. It's especially good if the work's over and done with, and I can go outside. There's a pussy willow about to bloom, and the earth is getting warmer, and the asphalt nearby is crumbling thanks to age... or maybe it's about to crack because of some plant that is under it and wants to see the world. And the scent has something living and breathing in it, from them - the earth, the asphalt, the tree and that other plant that has no name yet, but is about to grow. What is it? No idea, but I just love it.

Perhaps the most carnal of chypres I ever laid my nose on, Septième Sens is not only so very sensuous but mysterious, almost cabalistic in its design. It's as tortuous and erotic as a Fassbinder film, exploiting lust through its lecherous gaze. It's like a man in a sailor hat and y-fronts blending civet, castoreum, and plum paste with mortar and pestle, under bright, confrontational aldehydic lighting. It's a bar and brothel, it is cocktails and just plain %@! It's a major no-no that I give a resounding yes to. The slurry of sex is peppered with sticky honey and pin-prick narcissus and devilish dianthus, a narcotic nectar that seems well suited for a 2am jaunt for some mischief. It's the mist through dark wooded patches, damp, sweaty moss mounds, silhouettes lurking after hours, strange angels peering through like voyeurs under the moonlight. It simmers down into the sexiest skin scent, like cigarettes after sex, nuzzle-into-hairy-chest-or-arm-or-who-knows-what, and when one ends up wherever, the possibilities are endless.

I have a little mini of this one, but I wish I had a big bottle. It is a strange and lovely perfume. It smells like a dusty attic, hot cinnamon twists from Taco Bell, underarms (probably from the civet), and just a tiny bit of curry powder and cooking spices. If this fragrance was a fabric it would be rust-brown velvet. Septieme Sens (7e Sens) is one of those fragrances where you can't stop sniffing yourself because you catch something different every time. It's so complex--I love it. I can see how it could be a polarizing fragrance though; it has a distinctive aroma and I don't think it would suit most people. It's introspective, artistic, and would be borderline offensive to people who have cleanliness worshipping sensibilities. Idea: If you can't find a big bottle for a reasonable cost, buy a few minis and a small ornate perfume bottle from etsy or ebay, then pour the Septieme Sens minis into the decorative perfume bottle. There you go!

Ce septième sens, en extrait couleur miel, dans son petit encrier avec un bouchon argenté, m' ensorcelait de son odeur capiteuse charnelle poudrée et tel le parfum de Maléfique, punissait de maux de tête terrible mon addiction. Il était pour moi un poison olfactif et ce flacon ,un petit bijou, m'a été subtilisé par une envieuse. Il y a prescription, c'était en 1985 et ce parfum était pour moi l'expression olfactive la plus inattendue de la tentation.