Rozy Voile d'Extrait

“A Rose Is Still a Rose,” said no Vero Kern ever. Next to Onda, Rozy is the most complex work in the Vero Profumo catalog. A perfume that fascinates me on multiple levels, apart from the name. I don’t know what inspired it, but to me it sounds rather discordant with the fragrance itself. Such a convivial title for a composition that steers quite mature and dangerous. But perhaps that is how it all started. The journey of coming of age. With a little girl named Rozy. There is nothing "breezy" about Rozy. There’s not even much rose to it. I also feel quite reserved about placing it in a group of fragrances since it spans such a vast territory, but if I were to squeeze everything and have it fit in one slot, it would be the Oriental genre. It is really fascinating how Vero managed to pull inspiration from the classics to later develop her own original ideas. The way she used materials in ways they were rarely used by other perfumers, and how she always thought outside the box. With a name like Rozy, one would expect a big rose at the center of the composition, but that is hardly the case. The floral part of this fragrance is built upon a mutant “TuberRose.” I say mutant because it is neither tuberose nor rose, more like a hybrid of the two. Of course, Vero wouldn’t just glue them together, but further transmute the individual parts. Therefore, the tuberose keeps some of its innate characteristics: green and camphoraceous, while its rubbery and almost leathery aspects are amped up. The rose is pressed against the pages of a book and left to dry: a dusty carcass of its former self, while its natural fruity/berry-like facets are further exploited. She opted for blackcurrant/cassis to emphasize the delta-damascone-like molecules naturally found in rose. And so, Rozy opens with a burst of juicy blackcurrant supported by camphoraceous and green facets, quickly followed by the bouquet of transformed flowers. But the floral part doesn’t get to hold the limelight, as one can almost immediately sense darkness creeping under. I pick up a prominent leather accord, quite dusty and dry. It feels like the florals are growing out of a leather garment, perhaps partly because of how the tuberose is transfigured. And this leather accord will continue to hold its ground for a long time, joined by other Oriental motifs as Rozy morphs on the skin: honey (again, dry and not syrupy), incense, resins (styrax and cistus), woods, oakmoss, and a noticeable animalic cocktail of musks, very similar to the one used in Onda, only slightly toned down by comparison. The brighter bits of Rozy disappear as swiftly as they appear. You get a glimpse of the currant buds and an impression of the florals just before they get engulfed by this harem of sins. Its fall from grace is predestined with no turning back. She was once a little girl named Rozy, and she turned into a beautiful woman who has mastered the art of seduction. Ultimately, Rozy feels like watching someone’s coming-of-age journey, or perhaps witnessing one’s transgression. It is a story of becoming. I enjoy every chapter of it, as each part is satisfying in its own way with no dull moments. A thorough olfactory composition where quality materials, skillful crafting, classic and modern alike, summit. IG:@memory.of.scents

My initial impression of Rozy Voile d'Extrait was a nose-gasm, eyes rolling in the back of my head laid flat on my back. The sweetened florals, resins, cassis and vanilla are so exceptionally well-blended that it becomes a singular scent, but within it I can smell nuance after nuance and, specifically, it reminds me strongly of several great perfumes I already enjoy. In particular, there's something in the powderiness of the florals combined with the honey and vanilla that takes this STRAIGHT into Guerlainade-like territory, indeed I get touches of Insolence, Nahema and Chamade, the rose and cassis likely being responsible for the latter two but I struggle to understand why Rozy is reminding me this much of Insolence too, or indeed where this incredibly cosmetic powderiness is coming from. I can believe that here the tuberose and rose have been conjoined to create some new, impossible flower which is utterly without counterpart in the natural world, but to me is a rosy-purplish kind of colour (and, indeed, not a white floral at all). On rare occasions a slight, tart fruitiness appears and then instantly recedes, I assume this being mostly from the cassis. At the bottom a fairly distinctive leathery note, not unlike that found in Lutens' Cuir Mauresque, takes the occidental floral of the heart and transplants it somewhat to the East, though not hugely far. All that said, Rozy VdE gives to me the emotions and imagery that are conjured by Insolence and the "vortex florals" (Nahema and Chamade) of Guerlain - a fragrance which is totally enormous but also extremely heavy, like brocades of near-black fabric falling around a Victorian bedchamber and faintly illuminated by the moonlight. It is more nocturnal than any of the fragrances I've mentioned, and heavy and rich with sweet and spicy resins as it dries down. If you're a lover of the vintage, orchestral Guerlain you are near-guaranteed to like this. Gender-wise it does lean more to the feminine side, though its enormity is uncharacteristic of the watery and fruity scents that dominate contemporary women's perfumery. I may update with further thoughts as I wear this more.

“Everyone praises the endurance of the ascetic, but no one appreciates the stamina of the hedonist. To laugh until the throat burns and smoke a cigar to soothe it, to black out but not pass out, to love without climax, to be immortal in the moment – what stoic has such fortitude?” - Bauvard, The Darkness of Nature Rozy is an immolation of a perfume. Don't expect a stoic rose soliflore, or even for Rozy to be Rubj for roses. It's neither. It's more Knize Ten than Une Rose: a bombastic dinosaur of '80s floriental cut at odd angles with niche oddity. Boucheron in a burlesque retrospective. The rose itself in Rozy is more hinted at than present, lost and buried somewhere in between honey and blackcurrant, realized more as a whiff of Caronade in the manner of Or et Noir than as a living blossom. Tuberose has got your back on this caper, and your front, middle, and sides, in case you might miss my meaning, buoyed up on a plush duvet of orange blossom, opopanax, and benzoin. While this ( the Voile d'Extrait I'm reviewing, that is ) doesn't reference other fragrances of Vero's, it shares their common thread of smelling simultaneously like a vintage perfume, and also one of the stranger creatures in niche. I'd recommend it to fans of Knize Ten ( uncannily in the top notes ), Miel de Bois ( in the heart ), and among newer releases, Calice Becker's Sweet Redemption ( the fuzzed-out orange blossom palpable throughout ). Fans of the Caron urn scents and larger '80s feminines should also find something to love in here. Word to the wise: Rozy is a tank. The Voile d'Extrait is the dilute variant of the ( presumably Brobdingnagian ) Parfum Extrait, but even given that, one spray makes its presence felt far beyond arm's-length. Tread cautiously.

This is one of the least Floral floral scents I have ever smelled, although it is the complete opposite of the dry non floral floral Le Labo Rose 24! Hey maybe it's just moi, but I get neither Rose nor Tuberose nor “white floral” which are in the notes pyramid up there! I do smell purple, green, gold and silver, none of the Floral variety. The opening sharp fruit blast is one of my favorite parts, and lets you know that this is not going to be a conventional perfume tumble — if you couldn't tell by the bottle and the name — and it's a wild and wonderful ride! It's like a perfect dish by a brilliant chef. It has wonderfully balanced elements of acid, spice, sweetness, texture, color and flavor, perfectly seasoned, and you have never really tasted anything like it before. Very entertaining! On the other hand it is easy to have an intense chemical reaction that makes it impossible to appreciate any of the Vero fragrances, which I happen to have with Onda, the scent everyone adored when her line launched, so samples are a must! PS I just wore this on a rainy cold day in Paris and although I found the sharp fruity aspect as pleasurable as always, more of the floral quality was present for me than ever before (and I am almost finished with my bottle!) maybe a body chem thing or else an exhausted nose, go figure!

I have sampled or have in my collection many types of perfumes. I can love and appreciate them all, but I have discovered that my chemistry has to have the old fashioned rose jasmine accord. I bought a sample of this from Lucky Scent because the review said that it was like a contemporary version of Nahema or Shocking, my two most favorite fragrances of all time! Obviously, I had to try it! The first sniff was wow, this is how perfumes used to be made! The three notes that I get in spades are tuberose,honey and benzoin. There may be rose somewhere in there, but I can't distinguish it at all. The drydown is really lovely, a little smoky and full of honey and very much resembles the reformulated Shocking and something in the drydown hints of the the original Shocking. I do not tolerate tuberose very well, but the first shot of it doesn't last too long before the honey takes over. This fragrance is very beautiful and gives me hope that old time perfumery is not dead yet! Thank you Vero!