Extract of Mysore Sandalwood

by Crabtree & Evelyn, 1970

This is a discontinued fragrance that I was lucky enough to buy before it disappeared forever (Note: Basenotes lists it as still in production. Where?!), most likely discontinued due to supply problems. Sandalwood from India is now so rare & expensive it probably became cost-prohibitive to have a line of mere toiletries based upon it. Sandalwood from Mysore, India in particular is now extremely rare, overharvested, poached, and is now threatened. There's sandalwood from Australia, but it smells differently, a little more astringent and lacking the fruity undercurrent that Mysore sandalwood has. There are unrelated trees called "sandalwood" whose oil is marketed as "sandalwood oil" but the scent only bears a passing resemblance to sandalwood. Also, one if the ingredients listed on the bottle is diethyl phthalate, used to denature the alcohol (no making cocktails out of your cologne!). Due to the current hysteria concerns about phthalates lately, I suppose they couldn't bring that back, either.

Yes, Crabtree & Evelyn have a Sandalwood toilet water in production, but it's not the same thing, believe me. The current C&E sandalwood scent is a wan, pale pretender to the throne of this magnificent original, it might even have a bit of real sandalwood (from Australia?) in it, but it's so damn weak it's unidentifiable. Hell, any scent in it is pretty much undetectable! I've sampled it twice and neither time did anything blossom from this Void of Nothingness, like it did from Kenzoair. They're probably using some artificial sandalwood scent in the mix to save $$$$, which isn't working. The artificial "sandalwood" scents always lack the depth of the real thing. Each chemical may capture one facet of the scent perfectly, but it's only one facet, and very lackluster. Combine several and you may get a better approximation, but still the soul, the quintessence is missing.

But the original's sandalwood scent is deep, mellow, and rich, and surprisingly sweet. That heavy hippie-deodorant spicy astringency sandalwood can fall into is expertly rounded with ylang-ylang and a touch of cedar and vetiver. When first applied, the top notes are a very sweet ylang-ylang, a bit of cedar, and the sandalwood slowly follows behind, blooming in about 20 minutes as the ylang wears off, then it's smooth, polished sandalwood all the rest of the day. When my bottle was new, the sandalwood would leap out at you, pleasant and civilized, but insistently there. Now that it's older, it's mellowed like wine does, and makes a graceful appearance instead of announcing itself loudly. As much as I love this scent, I shouldn't wear it on my skin, for some reason it goes sour and a little rotten on me in a few hours (perhaps the ylang aging like a gardenia?), if I apply it to my clothes it's glorious all day.

I wore this as a teenager and into college. At the time, Giorgio, Polo, Drakkar Noir, and Aspen was all the rage, and though I have a special place in my heart for Giorgio & Drakkar (the snotty girls wore Aspen & Polo), this C&E scent is what really evokes my teenage years.

It's now had it's day in the limelight, (or been eulogized). Time to be tucked back into its bubblewrap and put back to bed...

Parfum Sacré

by Caron, 1990

... is actually a blurry spice trapped in the chewy center of a flower-flavored pastille. A plasticky eugenol note glows from it, evoking my grandmother's lipstick or some other old cosmetic.

The trapped spice in question is mysterious: A peppercorn? Dried pepper leaf? Smoked tea? Tobacco? Sumac powder? Who knows. The flower-flavored pastille it's trapped inside definitely has rose, but the clove-ish cosmetic element defies the definition of any other flower it might contain. As it wears, the powdery element of the clove pretty much takes over, leaving only the candyrose and a vague spiciness behind.

Though it evokes a very specific reminiscence of my grandmother, it's still not emotionally engaging. It's an unusual mixture of notes that work together well; the candysweetness says "young contemporary", the rose & clove says "old-fashioned classic", the spice even suggests "masculine", yet... I'm still disappointed it wasn't formulated better. It smells like a draft on the way to a much better perfume, one with a stronger spice element, more definable flowers, and only a touch of clove to hold it together. Instead we get this promising but unfinished sketch that's somehow gained entry into the holdings of a world-class museum. I wonder, who's its uncle?