One not-so-polite leather: Jolie Madame (Balmain)

A while ago, I entertained myself by writing about two "polite" leather perfumes I love. And I do love them. But I love even more a dirty leather. Kind of the olfactory equivalent of this:

I like my leathers best when they're a bit naughty. Rough around the edges but with a heart of gold. Or maybe not even a heart of gold. Rough and rougher is fine. Bedroom eyes don't hurt.

My favorite dirty leather is a bit polarizing. A lot of perfumistas love the stuff, but I know a lot of "normal" people get that wide-eyed, nostrils-flaring look that usually comes right before a quick goodbye or a dash to open the window. Let's just say this one is not exactly "work friendly".


Jolie Madame is something I wear whenever the hell I want (I already have no perfume fear, but this one makes me even ballsier). Others may feel it's best suited for evening. Maybe midnight. In a barn.

As a little clue as to what you might be in for, here is a quote from March of Perfume Posse:
"Jolie Madame was the nastiest, skankiest piece of liquid hell that had graced my wrist..."

She goes on to point out that she later fell head over heels for it. That's a familiar story.

I stumbled upon a bottle of the vintage, viscous and dark and hiding in plain sight in an antique store. I picked it up, bought it, went home, sprayed and... wow. That stuff is just weird.

I read about Jolie Madame from time to time, and as I developed more perfumista cred, I started loving "the skank". Jolie Madame has skank. Take a look...

Top notes: artemisia, coriander, gardenia, neroli and bergamot 

middle notes:  tuberose, narcissus, orris root, jasmine and rose 

base notes: leather, patchouli, musk, coconut, civet, oakmoss, castoreum, and vetiver

Ah! The skank trifecta: musk, civet, and castoreum!

I have three bottles of the stuff now. Clearly, I "learned to love it". It wasn't hard. Jolie Madame is dark. It's a little mean. It's also very, very different from the department store perfumes I was used to (to which I now say "thank God!").

All of my bottles of Jolie Madame smell pretty different. One is not as jagged and rough. I don't like it as much as I like the others. The two I love, while different, are still identifiable as being the same perfume. They're both powerful. Really powerful. One drop is plenty, two is insta-bombshell. Three is probably too much.

My Jolie Madame bottles are all "vintage", though I have not bothered to try to find out how old each is. From what I understand, the modern version is still Jolie Madame, though maybe a bit more green and bright than the vintage.

Like most people, I'd classify this as a violet-leather perfume. The juxtaposition of the feminine violets (often considered "girly") against the dark and dirty leather is, quite simply, perfection.

Jolie Madame was created in 1953 by perfume genius Germain Cellier, who also dreamt up the incredibly beautiful and very significant scents Bandit, Fracas, and Vent Vert to name a few. You can read more about her here and here.




If you are into violets (as I have learned I am), you will find these two articles really interesting:

• Perfume Shrine: Perfumery Materials: Violet, Violet Leaf & Ionones
• Parfumieren:  Ultraviolet

And here are some other reviews of Jolie Madame:

• Perfume Posse
• Muse in Wooden Shoes
• Now Smell This
• Bois de Jasmin
• Scent of the Day

Now, if you'll excuse me please, I have to go kick some asses.

Image sources: Leather Marlon, leather Johnny,
leather James,  leather Ryan; Perfumed Ryan Gosling.
All other images, and the editing on Perfumed Ryan are mine.

The wearing o' the green: Chanel No. 19, Balmain Vent Vert, Puredistance Antonia.

Top o' the mornin' to you, my fragrant friends! It's Saint Patrick's Day!

                          Yes, I'm Irish.                                     via

Today, many of us wear green, pin on shamrocks, and drink green beer. Most of us don't know why (or care). I'm not going to go into a history of St. Patrick or Ireland, mostly because I'm short on time - the Guiness isn't going to tint itself.

But I will take this moment to say Happy St Patrick's Day to all. And, of course, talk about celebratory perfumes!

The way I look at it, we can choose to honor St. Patrick with perfumes scented with wool. Or tweed. Or eau de sheep. Or lager. If none of those work for you, there's always GREEN!


Here are my  favorite green perfumes:




Chanel No. 19 is not Irish, but it is very green. Made in 1971 (like me, and all other perfect things) by Henri Robert, No. 19 was the last perfume made with Coco Chanel before she died - or so the story goes.

The opening is bracing and intense green galbanum and hyacinth - almost the personification of Spring itself! Ostensibly containing bergamot, neroli, rose, ylang, jasmine, and a host of other notes, mostly all I get is that intensely green opening, some iris, and a cool leather base. The scent, for most if its wear, is light and dry and cool in a nearly powdery way. And on my skin, it lasts for ages. It's one of those scents that I'm always aware of having on; my nose never seems to forget its there.

Some consider No. 19 cold or stand-off-ish or even a bitch. Not me! It's my comfort scent. It is often what I spray on after a long, trying day. I sleep with it, and I use it when I need to find my center. I wear the modern EDT, but look forward to meeting the vintage (a yellow-green, not the acid green of today). The word on the street is that the vintage jus is even better. I don't doubt it, but I still love the current version.

Vent Vert is another galbanum-strong perfume...at least at the beginning. It came before No. 19 in creation, but not in my sampling. It was the beginning of the green family of scents. Compared to No. 19, it is warm and cuddly. The opening blasts you awake and lets you know it's time to pay attention! This green is grassy and leafy. Fairly quickly, the green is joined by beautiful florals: some rose, some hyacinth, a bit of jasmine. This in turn melds into a lovely mossy woods that becomes part of your skin. It's amazing. To me, it's like walking through very green woods in the Spring. On me, Vent Vert is neither strong nor terribly billowing, though others praise its sillage. Maybe because my sample is dabbed, not sprayed?

I'm wearing an undated vintage EDT. Vent Vert has undergone at least two major reformulations and who know how many tweaks. The original was created for Balmain by Germaine Cellier in 1947. Calice Becker oversaw the relaunch of Vent Vert in 1990, which was then re-relaunched in 1999.

Antonia is the second  perfume  (of three so far) from uber-luxury Austrian brand Puredistance. At 25% perfume oil, it's pleasantly strong and long-wearing, which is nice, because if you buy the Swarovski crystal flacon for $2,870, you'll want to savor each drop! A more reasonable vial of 17.5ml is $198, and samples are a whopping $19.

But the smell? It's a bright, Spring-y green opening. Florals (jasmine, rose, ylang ylang) waft continually over a soft but persistent green base. The drydown is a green-vanilla. If Vent Vert is a walk through green woods, Antonia is a stroll through a May garden in delicious bloom.

Antonia was signed by Annie Buzantian. The scent was launched in 2010.

                                                                  Biking in The Motherland.                                                           via

What are you wearing today? (I've got No. 19 on my left arm, Vent Vert on the right ---and I haven't even had a beer yet.). Are there notable Irish scents? Do you wear green perfumes? If so, which are your favorites?