Rive Gauche

I have always been more of an oriental floral, or floral fruity gourmand, vanilla perfume lover. "Rive gauche" was my mother's signature fragrance in the 70's and 80's. She was the reason this fragrance was introduced to me aside from my standard scent tastes. My first impression was "oh no, this is far too difficult for me to feel confortable in wearing; maybe too masculine, too metallic, too dated". I was 24 then and through my scent I needed to project the element of invitation. I really needed my fragrance to be people-pleasing. A few years after, I came across my unfinished bottle of "Rive gauche". The aluminium bottle had preserved the scent absolutely intact. I find now that on my skin this is a multidimensional scent: the intense opening somehow sweetens and after about 10 minutes the aldehydes create a more citrusy and woody drydown. There is a background of undetermined elements - which I want to stay that way in order for the perfume to keep being magical -, through which the scent becomes sophisticated, aristocratic and unique. This scent does not flatter every complexion, nor does it emit the element of obvious invitation to others. Yes, this is a difficult scent, and the one who chooses it surely develops a love-or-hate relationship with it. However, if one is fortunate enough to smell as they are supposed to when wearing it, "Rive gauche" is the very definition of aristocracy, great projection and duration. It is THE excellent choice for a real woman for every occasion, on any time of the day, in any season. You cannot guess the number of compliments I get by both men and women in 2019 by smelling like that 70's scent. This made me realise that I do not need my fragrance to scream "sweet" and "available". Besides, I find that I can no loger tolerate edible smells. Nowadays, I only need people who approach me to detect what this fragrance silently projects for me: "expensive", "sophisticated", "intellectual", "professional", "knows what she wants", "out of the ordinary", "keeper". I believe these are the exact reasons why "Rive gauche" was the signature perfume of extremely important ladies of the 20th century: Katherine Hepburn and Barbara Hutton. "Rive gauche" will give the ideal (for me) first impression to my entourage, otherwise, I really have no time to waste. Just trust Yves.

Review of an early 1980s Charles of the Ritz EdT So says Stephen King having requoted Jonathan Swift, “sooner or later, everything old is new again.” I would like for that to be true of Rive Gauche. What’s “in” and/or “fashionable” is almost always a repeat of something that came before. Rive Gauche was supposed to be a perfume of a sci-fi future (it wouldn’t), completely reinventing how we think of the aldehydic floral chypre (it didn’t), and be unlike anything we had before (it wasn’t). But it got pretty darn close though! Today it would likely smell way too retro for most, but, at some point, “everything old is new again”. This futuristic perfume of the past needs a social media manager so that it can “reinvent itself” back into relevance. What makes Rive Gauche stand out from its predecessor aldehydic florals is the overdose of aldehydes presenting like ice shards, and virtually no sweetness to the fruit or floral notes. This was quite unique for the day, but hardly groundbreaking. At a time when aldehydic florals were typically hazy, abstract, powdery French chic affairs that smelled of old chateaux with well manicured gardens, RG wanted to smell of skyscrapers and glass, of flowers grown in a laboratory. The green peaches in the opening, covered in those icy aldehydes, give an immediate feeling of youthful, modern energy. Chanel No. 5, this was not going to be. Even in the floral heart there is a verdancy to the rose and jasmine that smells hurried and immature - but, in today’s perfumes that would mean sweet. Not RG. The florals are vividly saturated and devoid of any nectars and pollens. Orris and muguet act as street lights, shining a bit of a white and yellow glow into the cool, glassy, and icy night. Swells of oakmoss and musks work their way up and down the perfume before ceding to sandalwood, presenting a contrast of skyscrapers and flora. I have a soft spot, a big one, for Rive Gauche even though there is nothing soft about the perfume at all. It is hard, bifurcated, piercing, abrasive, vivid and saturated. It’s a lot of things that are negative and difficult, but the sum is greater than the parts and the sum at the bottom line says masterpiece.

[475] Rive Gauche, possibly the most legendary YSL perfume of all, is a bohemian take on an aldehydic floral. Masterfully composed, it is a multifaceted and cohesive perfume - simultaneously dewy and bright, floral and fruity, green and mossy. The iconic arty bottle is sturdy and satisfying, and seemingly RG was created with the working woman in mind, with the intention that she would buy her own perfume. 1970s in the best way, it is feminine but not stuffy or overly girly; instead it is fresh and relaxed as well as being an undeniably excellent perfume. The epitome of undone chic, it is very French and reflects its Left Bank inspiration to perfection. To borrow an popular sentiment from Instagram, Hy and Polge clearly understood the assignment. I have two miniatures from the noughties, post-reformulation (reviewed here), and a very old vintage parfum. I like this so much that I bought a full bottle last year. RG opens with dewy green notes, elevated to soapy radiance by the aldehydes. I get a prominent rose note at the opening, made green, fresh and soapy by the other notes. There is a hint of peach in there too. As it develops, the white florals emerge, led by a beautiful lily-of-the-valley note that smoothly paves the way from the green, soapy opening to the floral heart. There is a slight metallic quality to the aldehydes as they progress on my skin, but it simply adds bite here. It becomes powdery as it develops, with more white florals coming to the fore. The drydown is mossy and chypre-like (my favourite olfactory family). Wonderfully rich and earthy, it is satisfying in the manner of classic chypres. It still remains quite soapy and green with hints of florals remaining until final fade. Sillage is strong and longevity is long-lasting. A year-round feminine-leaning scent, RG is best applied sparingly. RG has a strong, defined identity, much like the pioneering designer behind its brand. It manages to be both radiantly bright and densely rich; timeless, yet of its era; rooted in tradition, yet provocative; complex yet utterly cohesive. It is the grand sum of many noteworthy parts. If Gloria Steinem was Parisienne. Magnificent. 5/5.

Received my new flacon today of RIVE GAUCHE in the contemporary EDT. It cost me $85 USD (neither cheap nor exceptionally expensive, in today's terms). Sprayed a generous application on my arm, using its pump-style atomiseur. Firstly, a brilliant, big, nose-prickling cloud of dewy aldehydes. Then gradually the scent takes shape. It's a tightly-knit little powdery bouquet of white flowers, abstract and bleached-out, not photorealistic... I visualize it to be periwinkle blue, and I detect nuances of a wild honeysuckle, with a slightly earthy component, and then a very synthetic smelling, high-pitched lily-of-the-valley. Hints of a dry rose and abstract jasmine complement the above floralcy. If your nose is REALLY acute, you might even pick up on a ghosted/subliminal patchouly and cinnamon... "nearly not there at all". A dry 70's-style musk, not in the least bit indolic or stinky/animalic, binds them all together: in fact, you could almost say RIVE GAUCHE feels "untouched by human hands", like a Warhol or Rauschenberg silkscreen. Then, in time, the curious base evolves: It smells even MORE abstract; in fact, it smells "environmental", like a newly-constructed urban building: new steel, new industrial textiles and new panes of glass, with factory dust still on them. (YSL was doing "environmental" long before Comme de Garçons was even thought of). That combination of abstract "light blue" floralcy and curiously environmental steel and glass builds the character of RIVE GAUCHE: The picture of an urban street flanked with skyscrapers on a cool sky-blue day are the mood. Maybe a wind-whipped Parisian Sunday morning in late-March? Thus floralcy is taken out of its usual silvestral, quaint country environment, making for a most unusual perfume... as unusual today as the day it was released: cool, chic, optimistic and refreshingly unsentimental. In the 'Aughts, a friend had gifted me with a canister-- pressurized aerosol propelled-- of RIVE GAUCHE dating to the 70's... I just remember that the original jus had great sophistication, and a distinctly metallic quality. It's said the current formula is less metallic.

Cold, bright, sharp metallic rose, accented with bergamot. Jacques Polge used aliphatic aldehyde as the base to create a more avant-garde and futuristic Calandre for YSL—Rive Gauche. Rive Gauche is not only closely related to classical Arpgre (1927), L'Air du Temps (1948), N°22 (1922), but also has common characteristics with Chamade (1969). The dazzling light of Rive Gauche also reminded me of Vaga. After smelling Rive Gauche, an important member of the aldehyde family, I thought that I could sort out the history of the style development of aldehydes. I think Rive Gauche is like that... In the beginning, Vaga was also a little bit cold on the tip of a needle, piercing straight to the soul. Vega's light beam runs very fast, and can travel tens of thousands of light years in an instant. And Rive Gauche is calm and casual, destined to go slower. Early morning on the Seine, or the misty left bank, these descriptions are not quite enough. Because that's not how Rive Gauche feels to me. If you have seen the sci-fi movie "Le Cinquième Élément" directed by Luc Besson in 1997, you will definitely remember the clip of the blue alien singer singing "The Diva Dance". Why are many people so impressed by this? In my opinion, Rive Gauche's sense of the future is equivalent to this scene: from outside the sky, the high-pitched, ethereal, deep and hollow timbre of aliens and Rive Gauche's silver artificial metal light are combined into one, which is indescribably wonderful. (Or, Disneyland’s Space Mountain speeding through the dark.) Galbanum, sweet rose with a layer of green, gray powder of iris... sour ylang-ylang, jasmine, honeysuckle and lily-of-the-valley. At the beginning, it is a sharp aldehyde fragrance, then a clean and soft floral fragrance, and finally a deep and dignified musk-resin after tone, clear contrast, and a plastic smell during the period, echoing the "inorganic" attribute of Rive Gauche.