Opium (1977)

Before I get into my review, I must firstly note that it's based on the gold-capped bottle with the embossed, Far East-inspired design. The batch code confirms it's from 1995. I believe it's a Sanofi Beauté edition that, due to YSL's recycling of older packaging, wound up in a Parfums Corp box with a corresponding label on the bottle. Either way, it's still a 90's edition, still from the last of the "good years" of Opium, and I'm happy to have it in my collection. The moment I sprayed this, I was hit by a blast of raw mustiness, for want of a better word. I did expect to encounter some 'off' notes, though, as top notes don't tend to stand the test of time the way weight-bearing base notes do. Despite the box being sealed (or possibly resealed), the 'Opium Eau de Toilette' print on the bottle was partially faded. There was also a quarter-inch gap between the juice and the bottle's shoulders, but it did take some pumping to get it out. Regardless of where she'd been before, it was clear that she hadn't seen the light of day for quite some time. After a good few sprays to clear the staleness and allow her to breathe, the character of this fragrance started to emerge, and I was immediately reminded of the 2015 reformulated version of Estée Lauder's Cinnabar: a clove-driven spiciness with soft woods and a sandy type of warmth, but then Opium began to distinguish itself a bit better as it woke up even more, and where the modern version of Cinnabar has a spiced white floral type of pureness to it, this '95 EdT has a distinctive aldehydic side that made me think of raw linen initially, before my mind settled on the image of feeding cotton sheets into a rotary ironer and the scent the heated sheets release into the air. However, instead of the freshly laundered sheets going on the bed, they're folded into a wooden chest of drawers that has small muslin bags filled with dried spices in each of its compartments. It's also worth noting that, unlike Cinnabar's slightly rougher, more textured edges, this retains its smoothness right throughout the drydown. I realised quite soon into getting to know this fragrance that, although it could easily be a winter warmer (as many amber fragrances are), it could just as easily shine on a cool spring/summer's day, as it swirls around you like a breeze between sheets on a washing line. As it dried down even further, I started to pick up on some of Youth-Dew's characteristics as well, but mostly through Opium's background resins that allow it to go deeper than today's Cinnabar, but not quite as deep, nor as dark, as modern YD. It does bridge the gap, though. I also found this stage to be quite amusing, as I finally understood Estée's frustration with YSL and how, in her opinion, Opium was just "Youth-Dew with a tassel" - literally speaking, given the tasseled exquisiteness of the original 1977 flacon, which I understand is a notably different fragrance compared to the one I'm currently reviewing, as are all of Opium's incarnations. Over an hour into having this gem warm on my skin - and also warm up my skin, which I can only attribute to the cinnamon in this - the divine sandalwood started to come through. If I'm not mistaken, there is still a trace amount of Mysore sandalwood to be found in this edition, and I most certainly picked up on its smooth, sensual character that really shone against the backdrop of modern perfumery's take on the note, be it synthetic or the less refined Australian version. It's soft but not exactly delicate. There is nothing sharp or bombastic about this EdT; instead, it retains a subdued, but still distinctive, type of classiness. Over 2 hours in, and she grew slightly hotter, as well as spicier. There was a noticeable tingle on the skin, alluding to the natural ingredients used - and the cinnamon, of course. The fragrance just kept getting warmer, and at one point, I accidentally transferred some onto my nose and lips from my arm - and, you guessed it, the tingle was amplified even more. It wasn't unpleasant, however, and it was the first time I'd ever experienced a fragrance in a '3D' kind of way. I was elated to experience a scent that felt more real, fleshed out, as if actual thought went into it. It dances on the skin, and to a degree, on fabric as well. I noticed that the sillage is moderate and leaves a beautiful trail as it radiates within 6 feet or so. Some fragrances create a bubble, while others flirt with the room, and while I'm aware of how this fragrance warmed up and shifted on my skin, I couldn't help but smile as it moved ahead of me and introduced itself to everyone sharing the space. After around 3 to 4 hours in, it became softer, more sensual, and the woodiness began to dissolve and reshape itself into a satin-smooth kind of powderiness. The sandalwood-driven sense of refinement was still detectable but in a finely ground type of way, and it was soon followed by a subtle vanilla that wrapped itself around this stage of the drydown like a luxurious silk scarf - one that was coloured Opium red with an exquisite oriental design. This side of its sensuality bordered on sexy in a subdued manner. The warmth retained its subtle erotic charge, but it sat at a simmer and never bubbled over. After 4+ hours of wear, it developed a spiced honey accord, which made its texture feel thicker, more syrupy, and I came to know that after so much time of it having a dry, smooth and woody feel, it does indeed turn into a sap. But as it cooled, true to its nature, that sap fossilised into a golden amber resin after having consumed and immortalised all that remained within it as it dried down. This lasted a good 18+ hours, but was more or less a skin scent after the 10-hour mark with the occasional waft here and there throughout the following morning. It was a joy to know she was still around me, alive and breathing, as I went about my routine. I also sprayed some onto a cosmetic pad and left it in a tumbler glass, and that lasted for around 3 or 4 weeks, releasing the occasional waft as I walked past. The fading embers of this fragrance were soft but unique, and right before it disappeared from my skin entirely, a slightly buttery sandalwood briefly reappeared as a ghost with the powdery vanilla acting as its echo, reminding me of how the quality in perfumery has diminished over time, mostly thanks to IFRA restrictions and cost-cutting. It felt opulent, haunting, as well as quite bittersweet, given how all previous incarnations of Opium are essentially relics that won't be around forever. On a more positive note, however, I feel very fortunate to be able to enjoy it and immortalise my findings on a platform such as this, especially considering how my EdT in particular is celebrating its 30th birthday this year. It's still loved and appreciated by all who understand it, and though Opium's heyday is firmly in the past, all of its forms and flankers (not including Black Opium, of course *ahem*) live on in our wardrobes, on our dressing tables, as keepsakes gathering dust on our shelves, and most of all, in our memories for as long as we live.

Opium! Den of pleasure, carnal delights, ecstasy. Forbidden euphoria. Blockbuster since day 1, Opium is (was) the unparalleled success of Yves Saint Laurent. Cleverly following the footsteps of Youth Dew (Lauder once said it was ‘Youth Dew with a tassel’), Opium landed like a bomb in 1977 taking the whole world by surprise. In a time with no social media and focus groups, Opium alluded to the thrill of the forbidden and the state of mind; guilty pleasure and erotic ecstasy via the heavy spice route sweetened with exotic flowers. The Opium den that Yves conjured and which caused an outrage in the Chinese-American population, banned in many Arab countries and sold without its name on the bottle in some European countries, was nothing but hedonistic pleasure in liquid form. Opium didn’t endorse drug abuse, something that was increasingly the theme du jour in the late 70’s, nor did it condone it. It simply alluded to the state of trance and sensuality one feels under the right circumstances. Opium was either understood and immediately adored, or rejected like the plague. True vintage Opium, with all its forbidden notes, ingredients and allergens is one of my most loved and cherished fragrances. Nothing, absolutely nothing comes close. And sadly, this makes it extremely hard to replace. Long review/homage based on various bottles, splash and spray, from 1977, 1978, 1980, 1981 and 1984. When Opium launched, Yves sought to create the complete opposite of Y, his debut fragrance which was a beautiful and elegant aldehydic chypre. He wanted a heavy, languid, extremely powerful and sensual oriental that would make women go crazy, and men completely surrender to its charms. He enlisted Jean Amic, Jean Louis Sieuzac and Raymond Chaillan and together they created a legend that catapulted to success before its official launch, resulting in stolen testers, ripped publicity banners, sellout within hours of hitting shelves, all the while causing a little dementia in the population. Oh, Opium! Heavily reliant on cloves, carnation, incense, Mysore sandalwood, resins, myrrh, opoponax, adorned with orchids, rose, lily of the valley, jasmin, peach, plum, orris and mystified with labdanum, castoreum, bay leaf, pepper, balsams and musks, Opium was like the breath of a raging dragon. Deep reds, golden ambers, the flowers of fire; the flowers of life. Up to this day, words elude me when talking about Opium; I find it so masterfully blended, so true to its meaning, that I cannot (and don’t want to) analyze it or dissect its notes. It’s inevitable that some of them pass right under my nose and are easily detected, but Opium is such a state of mind that the real pleasure comes from surrendering to it. Yes, it’s spicy, floral, aldehydic and mysteriously powdery in the drydown, yes, none of what was used freely to create it can be used with the same abandon today, but why break it to pieces? If for nothing more, the pleasure is smelling it all day long and watch it’s evolution, how it caresses the senses and how it embraces the ones lucky enough to love it and adore it. Opium is highly polarizing, and for most people, it stirs up memories; any kind of them. Good, bad, the ones who wore it, the elevators it permeated, the boss that doused in it...love it or hate it, this most recognizable magnum opus cannot leave you indifferent. Consider yourself lucky if only you can even smell it in your mind. While Opium does not go bad, it does mellow with age. Vintage bottles still pack a punch with enormous sillage and 24 hour longevity, but they have lost the fresh sparkle that was there in 1977; they have mellowed and concentrated in a way that it smells richer and more dense. The patina of time, but still unbeatable. And my personal opinion; up until the early 80’s, Opium was not reformulated, maybe only having suffered minuscule changes. It was so unbelievably expensive to produce that it was simply inevitable. By the late 80’s/early 90’s, the changes were a bit more pronounced but it was still itself. At the dawn of the new millennium, Opium started to suffer the consequences of cost cutting, change of taste and society’s evolution, and by 2005/6, Opium was not Opium anymore. L’Oreal simply murdered it completely, and what has been selling under the name Opium since then, bears nothing, zero relation but the name. It should have been discontinued altogether. While future generations will likely never have the pleasure of getting to know this gem, anyone that has had the pleasure of experiencing it is extremely lucky. And I thank my lucky stars and eBay for allowing me to have the pleasure of dowsing in it. My sillage is free of charge; no thank you needed.

Opium, launched in 1977, was an extraordinarily controversial fragrance for its time. Even its name, "Opium," refers to the narcotic substance extracted from the green seed pods of the poppy. At that point in his life, Yves Saint Laurent was living through a period marked by excess, drugs, and addiction. Together with Pierre Bergé, he envisioned a fragrance that would embody exactly those ideas: addiction, desire, hypnosis, and obsession. In a perfumery landscape dominated by elegant, well-mannered aldehydic florals, this true olfactory "drug" was born. The launch was surrounded by controversy. The fragrance faced numerous boycotts for its direct references to Chinese culture, particularly in light of the historical context of the Opium Wars between China and Great Britain. And yet—or perhaps precisely because of that—Yves embraced the aesthetic even further. The bottle was inspired by traditional Chinese lacquerware, while the advertising campaigns, photography, and entire visual identity explored this orientalized fantasy. Much of this was fueled by Yves's artistic fascination at the time, particularly following collections such as Les Chinoises for the Fall/Winter 1977 season. It was within this chaotic, psychedelic, and highly controversial atmosphere that one of the most iconic fragrances in history was born. It became an immediate commercial success, once again cementing Yves Saint Laurent's name in the world of perfumery. I was reborn in the darkness... and honestly, it would be almost indecent not to love this. The opening is an oriental explosion: warm, dense, and overflowing with spices. Clove immediately commands attention, nearly dominating the composition, while a subtle citrus sparkle attempts to brighten the initial darkness before quickly being swallowed by the fragrance's overwhelming richness. As it develops, cinnamon takes center stage in an almost hypnotic way. Warm, enveloping, and irresistibly sensual. There's also a nuance that reminds me of aldehydes, adding an unusual brightness amid all that density. The patchouli feels dry and slightly camphoraceous rather than earthy or damp, creating a beautifully sharp, green character. Then comes the base: the resins. Everything here is crafted with remarkable richness. Castoreum appears subtly, adding an animalic touch reminiscent of warm skin and clean perspiration, amplifying the fragrance's carnal nature. The myrrh is simply addictive. The incense is incredibly prominent. It genuinely feels like stepping into an esoteric shop where strong cinnamon incense is burning, surrounded by spices and ancient clay artifacts. The experience is almost ritualistic. The drydown remains centered around this magnificent blend of intense cinnamon, incense, and resins. Tolu balsam contributes a warm, smooth balsamic facet. Ironically, there is sweetness here, but never in a gourmand way. The vanilla works alongside the resins merely to soften the composition without ever turning it into a sweet fragrance. Occasions? Cold evenings, elegant parties, and any moment when you want to be remembered. This fragrance is unique. Splendid. Addictive. A true olfactory drug. Easily one of the greatest perfumes I have ever experienced.

Vintage EdT c. 1986 Opium caused quite a stir when it was released. On the U.S. side of the pond Estee Lauder was pissed off. Ms. Lauder and Co. thought Opium was a blatant copy of Youth Dew, and true they do have a lot in common. Upset enough that the following year they released Cinnabar for the one-up. On the Euro side of the pond, Opium’s strength and durability was unheard of, concentrated to what, today, would be considered an EdP (or even, dubiously, parfum) level. Couple that with its controversial name, grand and operatic nature yet massive diffusiveness, and it put the Eastern side of the Atlantic into a frenzy. I side more with the Euro proponents on this one. Opium is glorious. It’s not glorious anymore, but that is a different post. However, I do see why Lauder bemoaned and hissed at its creation. It is very much like Youth Dew, which I also love, but it is sufficiently different - mainly that it has a French chic and silken texture that isn’t present in the more rough-and-ready-Wild-West and even stronger Youth Dew. Aldehydes abound throughout the perfume’s life, creating a soft and powdery texture that presents everything through a haze. Enter into the den, if you dare. The fruit, spice, and herb opening is luscious. The bitter orange zest, the hesperidics, the bay leaf and clove - they create this beautifully fragrant cloud that smells of the most exotic of North African or West Arabian dishes. Positively mouthwatering. You want it, you’re jonesing, badly. Then, rising up like an opium cloud to whisk you into inebriated ecstasy is a carnation forward heart, creamy and peppery and superbly musky, accented with smooth, round, aromatic cinnamon, a big slug of elegant and fruity roses, and myrrh smoke. Heady. Man, is this perfume heady. Be ready. We’ve been transported from earthly deliciousness to the mind-warping divine. We’ve OD’d though. We’ve done too much. We’re not just high, we’re slipping into an afterlife under a warm and massaging blanket as one of the best amber bases in the last fifty years takes us on a magical transport into eternity. This base is everything: sandalwood, cedar, labdanum, civet and musks, vanilla and tonka, patchouli, incense, vetiver, leather - everything that has ever been in an amber base is here but instead of a morass it’s a beautiful mosaic where you can’t tell where one tile/note ends and another begins, but they’re all there in perfectly rich, elegant, airy, celestial harmony. I’ll forgo any drug or addiction references beyond this point; I can’t reduce this perfume to such depravity. But there is something about it, something that is “difficult”. Anyone who has owned this perfume in a real-deal vintage version will tell you that it is absolutely unconditional love, but sometimes it’s a bit much. It’s enormous, distracting in the best ways, grabbing hold of you with a death grip and not letting go, and there are moments when you say “I love you, but I can’t”. Living with Opium is a lot like having a toddler: there will be many times you “just can’t” with your toddler but even in those moments if anyone tried to take it from you, you’d kill them.

-It is a scent of contradictions, like the ancient incense of vespers and the fleeting musk of an one night stand. -In small doses, Opium is not incompatible with dining, clubbing or romance. Used excessively it will ward off flies, humans and evil spirits. -A spectacular incense of monstrous proportions. -The smell of Marco Polo's clothes as well as come back at Venice from his journey along the silk route. -I particularly love to apply a single, small squirt before bed. The smell is just heavenly. And all night I dream of the hanging gardens of Babylon... -I know why this perfume is called Opium. It is totally addictive... -Good lord, this is chemical warfare of the highest concentration! -God, Opium... what are you doing to me? -Is it possible not to be consumed by its beauty? -This is a sin. It must be.And the name, God that name! The whole thing is criminal. -The Opium is the most glamorous and dangerous girl ever appeared from Paris, seducing one feeble admirer after the other as she moves along. -Holy mother of god, this is amazing!!!It is just to die for... -OPIUM feels more like an impressionist painting about life and love on the ancient Silk Road. Truly you can't appreciate what an oriental fragrance really is until you've smelled this masterpiece. -Oh god, I literally felt like this perfume had a death grip on my throat. -Even after 32 years on the market, this scent still screams "OBEY ME." -I like it because it doesn't try to be likeable. It's just there. -I do believe that this perfume wears you... -While I do not wear it regularly, when I do, I intoxicate.Seduction in a bottle... -This is what I imagine the spice from Dune smells like... -It caused such a stirring in my loins that I'd track and hunt a woman wearing this down forever. BRILLIANT! -Treat yourself to the parfum. There is nothing in the world like it. -Opium is intoxicating and heady stuff. Something no wicked, decadent girl should be without. -It is my default fragrance. The one I want to be remembered for. The one I want to be buried in. -When it comes down to Opium, I'd have to say I'm a total sucker for it. -Dear God!!!What on earth is this???How could you ever create such a temptation??? -Opium is timeless and magical, and it is still THE Oriental. -Proof that there is a heaven. -I admit it, I'm hooked. I always heard that opium was highly addictive... -This stuff should be illegal... -It doesn't offer any favors,you don't have to just like it,you have to love it and if it loves you back,it will be a best friend for ever ... -It’s a bit of a creepy feeling, like meeting one of your old boyfriends, or someone’s walking over your grave... -Opium is the most magnificent antidote to the waves of pubescent pop princess, foody/deodorant-style, mass-made scents that rule young fragrance buyers as the 20th century closed and the 21st century begins. -I thought I bought a scent,I got Lilith in a bottle... Do I need to say more?...

One of the most wonderful oriental perfumes of all time, Opium is as intoxicating as the resin secreted by the narcotic poppy for which it is named. This vintage formulation is a true work of art, to me, as it is true to its name. Exotic smelling, heady and it does cause an almost euphoric response when it graces my skin and enters my nostrils. Containing more top notes than many modern perfumes have in their whole composition, this is a very complex fragrance that has a core of warm resins, but contains soooo much more... I was graced with a generous decant of the vintage EDT from the wonderful Wardrobe Mistress, and had been saving it for a special occasion (already having Opium PH, Belle d'Opium and a small modern one). On a cold and gray day in late December decided I needed warmed and cheered by a REAL perfume from "back in the day". Opium EDT fit the bill perfectly. This vintage EDT is much more powerful than any modern EDP! Immediately I was met with a resiny oriental cloud from only two small sprays. Cloves, coriander and bay with an undercurrent of fruitiness and sharp citruses swirled about me, with hints of sexy flowers and a rather "naughty" pepper. I floated on a cloud of simply indescribable perfumed power. As the heart notes appeared, the top notes did not fade so much as merge into them. A heady bouquet of "old school" flowers (like rose, lily of the valley, geranium and iris) combined with patchouli, sandalwood and sweet cinnamon was still drizzled lightly with a peachy nectar. At this point, it dawned on me (yet again) that most "vintage" women's perfumes have way more OOMPH! than most men's do today. Bloody gorgeous!! The dry down is almost like a trip to the Orient (or at least the Middle East) as thirteen basenotes become something dark, smoky and (even more) resinous; yet remain creamy and like liquid gold on my skin. *sighs* What is in OPIUM? What isn't?? Oh yeah...no caloney aquatic wateriness, no nauseating frilly fruity-floral bubble gum accord and no pretense. She is serious perfume, and if you do not like the likes of EL Cinnabar or YR Nature Millenaire; I would advise you to give this one a wide berth and avoid it at all costs. Sillage: amazing Longevity: unbelievable Overall: 4.75/5 This is considered "out of style" by many modern women. It is too powerful and (yes) very masculine; but remember, it came out in an era where women burned their bras and marched for equality with men. The era of patchouli dripping hippies and sandalwood burning stoners had just began to taper off, and the era of Disco was just beginning to dawn. Opium is not only a gorgeous perfume (in and of itself) it is an olfactive snapshot of a time in history. You may not like her, but please: respect her!

So grateful to be in possession of a vintage iteration of this beautiful fragrance before IFRA and L'Oreal turned it into a mere shell of it's former splendor. Bought a sealed box (and maybe got it for a great deal at $80 as I'm now seeing the same box and batch code going for up to $450?) on eBay. It's the box with the black bars & black YSL logo seal on the top. Cap is gold on top with gold lining the bottom rim. The glass is fully embossed with raised bamboo leaves. The batch code (batch EMB 60350) checker tells me it's from 2005-06 (which is still considered vintage, during the Gucci era) but something tells me it's made in 1995-96, because the way YSL and other top designers recycle lot numbers every 10 years. I think the seller must've did just a quick Google search of the going prices for the most common version, 2007-09, not knowing any better (the rest of what he had on offer was flea market fare -- nothing fragrance related). Thank you sir. Here I sense true raw animal musk, rose oil, and Mysore sandalwood. The bay note in the top is very pronounced, along with aldehydes. What a pleasure this is- in a fragrance world that is now saturated in headache inducing synthetics. It makes me fully realize how some recent compositions would be absolutely 🔥 if it wasn't for IFRA interference! Consider the ouds and "animalics" (synthetic castoreum) in Xerjoff's new Kemi line of fragrances. Modern animal notes are down to a mere scientific interpretation; meanwhile people still legally trap/hunt the very same animals for sport. Are these restrictions so the fashion industry can simp for PETA because it's trendy to be "socially conscious"? To me that's absurd for an entire industry to suffer over that. Same goes for people being judged for owning and wearing luxurious furs. Anywayyyy...... The topnotes are beautiful. Rich, full-bodied, spicy, and oh so satisfying; every listed note reveals itself at some point throughout wear. The OG Opium eventually dries down to a thick, smoky, resinous amber incense fra. So warm and zaftig, lasting for HOURS, reactivated by body heat. The sillage is enormous. Vintage Opium literally does "fill a room", as evidenced by a sweater I sprayed once and tucked away inside a cabinet in my office. When I came back, I was greeted with it's warm, spicy, incense-y embrace. It was as if my late mother had just left the room 🥺. I literally bought it to celebrate her birthday, as Opium was her most favorite. And yes, it brings many memories. Happy birthday in heaven momma 🤲🏻🕊️

I discovered one fateful day, one of my very good friends was using her vintage bottle of Opium as a bathroom freshener. Yes, you read that correctly. After hitting my knees with horror and despair, and a few rants about market value, and an ethical responsibility to the animals used in the perfumes creation, I began hasty negotiations. Firm verbal contracts as to this perfume's future, soon followed. Unfortunately, the dramatics only strengthened her position. Now she knew all it meant to me; she had the upper hand. Announcing, a little too quickly if you ask me, the bottle would only be relinquished if, and after, I cleaned her basement. So folks, I rolled my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and did what any reasonable person would do. I cleaned her basement. I have not yet housed regret for one minute of labor spent in that bonafide rescue mission. (You'll all be happy to know that I have full custody of the bottle, and with consistent care and attention, the bottle is swinging into full emotional recovery.) Whew! Crisis averted! So, you may ask, why was this so good, you'd be willing to relinquish days spent toiling in someone else's dirt? Well, I think we should start at the top. Hopefully, by the end of this windy song, I answer just that pondering. As Opium's famous spice structure reaches my nose, my body forces an autonomic pause. My eyelids instinctively close, and my mind becomes contemplative; still and detached. Notes play from a spice market. Notably robust blends of sweet and savory connotations, existing naturally within a city's walls, come into focus. Exotic nuances found lingering ambiently, are brought to life with oils, powders and pastes. Pungent incense is transported with the bustle of people, while tourists sip their Turkish coffees, commenting that nothing tastes quite as good where they are from. Floral notes get kicked up in a gentle breeze transversing the buzzing community, and among the commerce exists vendors selling resinous balsams, benzoin, and myrrh. Smoking wood from naan ovens and ever present animalic scents are caught in corners of the very shadows they cast. An utterly absorbing tranquility is found here, and all I need do is rest my eyes, and inhale deeply. There is nothing quite like the experience of traveling within one's own mind. Nothing so rewarding as finding serenity within a sniff. There is a discernible power found here. An amber potion enshrined in glass. My personal genie!

I recently stumbled across this purse-size 7.5ml EDT splash-on in an old tin of perfumes and I'm pretty positive that I would have bought it as part of a trio of YSL scents from duty free before 2010. The other two in the set are an 8ml Elle EDP (launched 2007) and an 8ml Cinema EDP (Launched 2003), and I thought I'd test it out to see if it had turned. The fact that this is labelled an EDT with the other two being EDP's leaves me to conclude that this is one of the many reformulations around that time. Well, I don't know if what I am smelling is what it was meant to smell like when new, but gosh, this perfume just blew me away! I clearly didn't like it when I bought the set, which is why 15 years later, the bottles are practically full. But as an older adult, I thoroughly appreciate the beautiful smoky-spiciness of the notes: warm and ambary, a very quick top note blast of orange, jasmine, and pepper, quickly plummeting past the middle and straight into base notes. The incense lends the depth, and amber and patchouli play heavy here. Some may find the burning and smokiness overpowering; for me, it drowns out any floral notes like rose or jasmine. But I adore it—those plum and orange accords remain deeply embedded throughout in a lovely homage to a warm and spicy mulled wine. Opium is very reminiscent of Annick Goutal's Encens Flamboyant, and, to a lesser degree, the dry down stages of Clinique's Aromatic Elixir. It is also reminiscent of another favourite - Frederic Malle's Noir Epices (now sadly discontinued). I wouldn't say the projection is grand, but the scent has huge sillage (especially noticeable when I move), and it DOES linger for a very, very long time. The common thread amongst all of these perfumes is that they leave that fading scent trail like the memories of a haunting torch song once the singer has left the stage. Still, I adore the way it clings to my clothes and skin, and I cannot resist pressing my nose to the sprayed area just so I can soak up more of this delicious blend. I love the sense of fire and heat this final melange imparts—reminding me of woody, smoky campfire embers. Opium was certainly the right name for this perfume. Warm, smoky, hypnotic, addictive - an amazing bouquet of resin, spice and bonfire that lingers for ages and makes this an ideal perfume for nippy autumn nights.

[750] I was impressed with the modern version of Opium when I tested it some time ago, but it is a pared-back version of the original, lacking its rich complexity. In contrast, the original is positively baroque. I have a 1980s miniature EDT, and it is one of the best things I've ever smelled. While a time capsule (especially for those who lived through the 80s when Opium was unavoidable), it is also instantly appealing to modern tastes. Spicebomb orientals are not what I typically gravitate towards, although I appreciate the greats, but I would wear this. Opium opens with rich, peppery spices with a prominent warm clove note. Citruses keep things fresh while complementing the spices to perfection. Some sweet, juicy peach rounds out the fruit accord. It feels lush and alive rather than potpourri-like. The balsamic amber base emerges early on, forming the backbone of this scent. Sweet, warm cinnamon emerges, complementing the clove beautifully. What is particularly remarkable about original Opium is the use of rich Mysore sandalwood - one of the best vintage perfume ingredients. Powdery rose adds body with orris enhancing the powder. A cloud of patchouli adds earthiness. The balsamic amber accord really comes to the fore as it begins to dry down, bolstered by the sandalwood, florals, patchouli and spices that remain. Despite its richness, it is linear. Ecclesiastical incense adds smokiness to the amber, while vanilla adds smooth sweetness. Rich and resinous, it becomes musky and slightly animalic in its later stages. Sillage is strong and longevity is long-lasting - it is made for autumn/winter evenings. It is unisex by modern standards. This is my favourite amber spicebomb, preferable to the likes of Coco, Youth Dew and even Coromandel in my opinion. An extroverted yet elegant vintage beauty that is sensual yet warm and approachable. Baroque, retro glamour in a bottle, this is a true classic. 5/5.

Opium, a dark seductress, an alluring mix of heady spices, thick florals and smoky woods, the epitome of Oriental delight. In this day and age of skin like scents and gourmand overload, Opium (both classic and the modernized version 2009) smells like a power punch to the senses. Being an Indian guy, and growing up with curries loaded with spices and flavors, Opium truly smells like home, but I still cannot deny the magic this fragrance weaves upon me, it lasts for hours on skin and days later on clothes. But I've learned the trick to opium (I've got versions that are from the 90s and early 2000s) is to apply only two or three sprays max and that too never on my neck, but on my chest, stomach and lower back, and that way the scent diffuses in a way that gets great feedback. I only use this scent on very rare occasions and at night, as this scent seems perfectly fit for the night and it goes for any season (it's a lot more intoxicating on summer nights, as sweat seems to really amp up the scent to come across as a sensual primal scent) during colder nights it comes across as a scent that evokes going into a city in the past, it smells like Diagon alley, it smells like knockturn alley, it smells like Hogwarts, it smells like tales from Earthsea, it smells like Narnia, it smells like Lovecraft, it smells like Bram Stoker, it smells of times gone by it smells nostalgic, it's not a smell I would call old (it's too great a fragrance too be deemed old), But opium evokes that feeling of reading a classic novel where escapism meets mystery, horror, antiquity, shock, darkness, beauty, ugliness which you cannot look away from, it evokes an emotional avalanche which speaks to you and catches you in a wave of delight. I love this scent and wish it remains in this world for those of us willing to embrace Opium for all that it wants to say. Opium is stories told in fragrance form. 10/10. A Masterpiece.

L'Opium versione originale,classica,vintage anni 70,80,90 è il mio rifugio. Recensire Opium vintage è stato fatto milioni di volte e anche da me,che ne avrò gia fatte e cancellate una ventina nel corso degli anni. Quando sento Opium mi immergo in un vento caldo desertico,il sole brucia,l'aria calda soffoca ma non c'è umidità. E' solo un vento che riscalda e brilla come il sole nelle estati del passato,quando il clima era naturale e il cielo era blu trasparente. La quantità di ingredienti che compongono Opium vintage è enorme e le note elencate sono forse meno della metà di quelle utilizzate. Benzoino del Siam e di Sumatra,balsamo di Tolu,muschi animali e vegetali,pepe,cannella,chiodi di garofano,coriandolo,pimento,alloro etc etc compongono la parte speziata piccante alla quale segue la parte floreale che a sua volta seguiva la parte agrumata frizzante dell'apertura. E ne segue una parte incensata,una parte legnosa,una parte ambrata,la mirra e l'opoponax amara e medicinale,la parte animale e muschiata,la parte resinosa e potrei andare ancora avanti. Il tutto costituisce una fragranza complessa ed elaborata da maestri del profumo che hanno usato la pratica, l'esperienza,la conoscenza delle proprietà aromacologiche degli oli essenziali e dei fiori,le combinazioni e le giuste quantità per creare un vero capolavoro che dopo 44 anni contina ad essere cercato e amato dai veri estimatori delle fragranze esemplari. Opium vintage suscita emozioni, ricordi,fa sentire pieni, appagati, sicuri e motivati, scalda gli animi, accompagna e narcotizza dolcemente,inebria. E' il profumo della maturità. Quando indossi Opium dichiari consapevolezza,maturità, sicurezza.Non è da vecchia signora bensì da persona che ha assunto la consapevolezza di se, sia giovane che adulta ma sa chi è e cosa vuole,non ostenta e non è arrogante bensì conosce.

The start of winter had me pulling out a 7.5 mL vintage mini of Opium EDT I purchased some time ago on eBay. Opium is one of my comfort perfumes. I had a knockoff of Opium that my mother bought, and I used to spray it on lavishly just to sit at home in my pajamas. Vintage Opium EDT is spicy but never harsh. I smell pepper, cloves, and incense to start, providing that bitter spicy kick. But this perfume is not just harsh spiciness. I detect sweet, soft florals, rose and jasmine, as well as spicy carnation. The sweetness here is a rich plum and peach sweetness, that is not at the forefront of the fragrance - but it is there, pulling a weight behind the spice and smoke, lending some roundness to the florals. The animalic presence is also there, a little sweet purr that darts in and out, saying "hello!" The stone fruit notes transition with the resins, as the fragrance dries down warmer and fuller, into a perfect spicy amber oriental. I love that the spice never goes away and this never becomes a vanilla amber - just the most warming resinous fragrance ever, with omnipresent fresh spice and incense to keep things awake and alive, not just smoldering. The EDT doesn't have crazy throw or lasting power on me, I'd say about 5-6 hours before it's completely gone, but it is detectable during a hug, which is how I like this perfume. Opium feels like a warm hug to me. For some fragrances I love so much, it's hard sometimes to describe them - Opium smells like spicy perfume that's come out of the rain and is now enjoying some snuggles in candlelight. There's something fresh here that reminds me of cold, wet jackets but also waxy candles, burning and brightening the soul. Love.

Opium is truly a beautiful perfume, arguably perfect if we want to discuss the artful construction of it. I got the privilege of smelling my mom's bottle from the 90s today, and it was wonderfully well preserved. I wager a guess that it was actually better than it possibly would've been new, as it had an aged, blended, seamless quality to it. I'm unsure though, because maybe that's how Opium is anyway? But I had assumed this would be a little sharper with distinct edges, yet was surprised at how smooth and soft it smelled. Strong, yes...but not rugged...it smells like sanded, oiled wood furniture with soft fabric looks and feels. The clove was definitely not the most prominent note to my nose, yet this does have a spiced top layer. It's not a eugenol bomb though. I actually smelled mostly citrus in the opening, despite my mom's bottle being considerably aged. The fruit wasn't degraded. Mostly, the sandalwood and carnation comprise 75% or so of this overall smell...dancing (waltzing even) beautifully together. This is very much a warm, woody floral....extremely womanly, if not even defying gender (I don't care, wear what you love). It's almost balsamic and somewhat animalic, and has a spice-drawer quality to it, kind of dry and complex...loaded with various details that are nearly impossible to detect. Yet, I don't find it overwhelming or too loud. I braced myself, but instead of pulling my nose away from this, I continually felt further and further compelled to bury it in it instead. I don't know much about modern reformulation regarding this, and I'm unsure exactly what year I'm reviewing here (some time in the mid-late 90s we think). It's just lovely though.

I know this isn't the parfum page, but there are way more reviews on this page. I figured this review would get read more. This is also on the parfum page. Well, I just snapped up two vintage Opium parfum extraits. A 15ML, new in box, manufactured in 1981, batch number 10961. And a 7.5 ML, manufactured in 1988, batch number 81111. Can't wait to get these pretty little things into my collection! These are my early birthday presents (bday's in Dec.) I'm so elated! Review update pending. Update 10/21/2021: Wow, these little gems are stunning! Seriously, when I held those little bottles in my hands for the first time, I was in awe. Two little time capsules into the past. Treasures like this aren't made these days. I haven't tried it yet, as I'm waiting for a very special occasion. But I can only imagine how transcendent the experience will be. I feel so grateful to have these little guys in my collection. They are definitely the crown jewels. 10/31/2021: Had to crack open the 7.5ml parfum on Halloween. Unfortunately, the glass stopper was so stuck on that I accidentally snapped the cord with the tassel. Oh well. I just took the cord out. I have a lot more freedom with the stopper now that it's not tethered to the bottle. Of course, I kept the tassel for a souvenir. The juice is utter heaven. Put a drop behind each ear and on my Décollete. Absolutely stunning! It's an intimate experience, as it doesn't throw far. But the select people you let into your personal space will definitely notice it. It's like Opium is being secreted from my skin. I've fallen hard for Opium!

I have a vintage Parfum in the red bottle with a tassel as well as a vintage Parfum 1.2 oz tester. This juice does not come off of clothes! Lol. I have the EDT from 2010 and to my nose the EDT smells very similar to the Parfum. The original has a musky quality to it that I can only imagine is the castoreum. This scent is spice in a bottle with warm ambery resins oozing out of it's pores. I am heavy handed when it comes to fragrances, but this one I learned my lesson! It will burn your eyeballs out! One drop is like blood to sharks! Very intoxicating and sensual! I am a male and this is easily unisex. I imagine Cleopatra favoring this perfume. It takes over a room and commands attention. It does not care of the opinions of others. It is absolutely beautiful when consumed in moderation, but it likes to sneak it's red polished claws out every once in awhile! I get a clean soapy vibe from the EDT every once in awhile. Like Sherlock Holmes sitting on a chair in his study smoking opium. You can smell his aftershave and the warm thick smoke billowing in the air. Or how the Wicked Witch of the West would smell after tending her poppy fields! Very interesting and complex scent! Classic YSL. There will sadly never be another like it, nor should there be. 3/25/20: Just received a vintage EDT with gold and red removable cap. Y'all...I think they kept this one as close to the original version as one could get. It smells the same as my 2010 version. Of course I will try a current version to compare, but for now my nose smells Opium identical on both arms.

Omg, I just bought a 100ml, basically 100 percent full bottle of the vintage formula for a great price. I'm so stoked! It's gonna be a few weeks until it arrives in the mail. Just had to vent my excitement on here. I have the modern EdT version, and it smells like spicy soap. I don't mind, but I'm sure this vintage beauty will smell better. I'll be sure to update. Update March 22nd, 2021: Just got my beautiful bottle in the mail today. Came a lot quicker than I expected, which is always a bonus. It came with no box. It's the tall EdT bottle with all the swirls, gold-trimmed cap, with batch number 72541 Was manufactured around 1997. Let me tell you, this stunning perfume puts the modern reformulation to shame. Seriously, the modern one smells like utter garbage compared to this. I put the tiniest of spritzes on my neck. It is very strong and intense, in the best way possible. It's hard to pick out notes, as the blend is so seamless. All I know is, I'm utterly addicted to this thick Opium haze. I'll be using this bottle very sparingly, though, as it is irreplaceable. Thank god for eBay, and the awesome Fragrantica community for educating me. You guys rock! Update March 27th, 2021: Couldn't help myself, bought myself a brand-new, without box, 3.4 oz bottle, batch code 50651. So made around 1995. I love my real Opium! I really hope I don't develop a vintage Opium hoarding problem. lol Uh-oh, what monster has been created?

Someone in my family (father’s side) used to wear Opium or something very very similar. The first time I smelled it as an adult I got struck by so many memories and I thought ”here it is! This is it!”. The marble floor in the hallway of my grandparents turn of the century apartment. Me and my sister wearing matching black velvet dresses with white lace collars. Christmas and that special butterfly in your stomach. My mother and aunts being dressed up. It’s all there. As my interest and knowledge of perfume grew I learned that this “it” was cloves. I have a sweet spot for cloves in all possible ways and Opium envelopes the beautiful cloves in a dry amber, churchy incense, myrrh and soft cedar. It is very powerful but also smooth and elegant. If I say it’s “clean” I will probably be misread, but I can’t find a better word to describe the way Opium projects. There is nothing disturbing in it, no cloying notes, no headachey heaviness (this of course depends on the amount of sprays, I think one is enough), just great silage and longevity. You can focus on the scent without having to deal with, say, a too sweet vanilla or too sharp cedar lingering in the background. ntabassum92 wrote that it is a comfort scent, and I think that is very accurate. It’s warm and comforting and intriguing. Nothing but love for this one. The 2009 reformulation is beautiful as well and one of my favourite fragrances for winter evenings.

Anche oggi indosso l'opium degli anni 80, non la versione attuale dopo 2009,ci tengo a distinguere bene. Negli anni 80 eravamo adolescenti,ragazzi, e sentivamo questo profumo caldo e vaporoso in giro,e io ne ero infatuato. E come me tanta altra gente. Opium è il profumo. Mi accompagna da 40 anni, trovo ridicole da sempre le recensioni che lo attribuiscono alle vecchie signore. Oggi gli olfatti sono stati ammaestrati a riconoscere e amare solo due o tre note,sintetiche e puzzolenti tra vaniglia oudh tuberosa finta e incenso. Infatti per la strada sento solo un profumo,sembra che tutti usino il solito. Puzzolente e chimico. Ma loro credono che sia sexy. Opium evoca il sole,il caldo torrido,il deserto, il colore dorato di spezie e ambra,il marrone di ocra. Non staro a descriverlo ancora dato che ormai è cosa fatta e rifatta. Ogni volta che lo indosso qualcuno ne rimane vittima. Ultimo un mio cuginetto di 12 anni che dopo averlo sentito su di me,ha fatto di tutto per farselo comprar da sua mamma e se ne fa il bagno ogni giorno. Quindi la storia delle vecchie signore è una immensa stupidaggine. Oggi in tutta la nicchia,profumieria araba e fesserie varie non esiste un profumo buono ricco e originale come questo opium,che nella sua formula originale aveva centinaia di ingredienti e naturali, e nessuno ha mai visto una reazione allergica...

Wearing a vintage bottle of Opium for the first time now. One thing Opium is not is a feminine fragrance. It may be MARKETED to women by YSL but objectively it is unisex. I would even vote fir a slight masculine lean orver a feminine one. The florals are very subdued, and the carnation here manifests as spicy anyway. What sets it apart from others of the genre - Cinnabar, Youth Dew, Obsession Pour Homme (haven't tried the fem Obsession yet), Aramis JHL - is the prominence of the smokiness and just a bit more fruitiness added to the spicy amber. I have Cinnabar, Aramis JHL, and gifted a girlfriend a bottle of Youth Dew. Interesting classic Old Spice - the 1938 masculine-targeted icon - is listed as a comparison. I thumbed it up. Old Spice is considered to be the world's first male-targeted Spicy Oriental. I have a 1981 Long-Lasting Cologne bottle. I can see the comparison. I can understand why Opium may be considered the holy grail of this opulent Spicy Oriental genre. Its really good stuff. A sub 4.0 rating for this is unforgivable. The bulk of FragCom are young people, or casual afficionados, not FragHeads like me. I'm not saying they are bubblegum-chomping, unsophisticated Philistines, but FragCom tends to be heavily oriented to superficial, MODERN, designer scent profiles.