Euphorium Brooklyn has the answer for dark mysterious perfume: Pétales

Do you remember back when edgy, dark, shadowy makeup artistry line Illamasqua released their fragrance, Freak? The one in the dark tilted bottle with the snail on the side? 

Illamasqua Freak
Freakily disappointing 

That's about as dark as we got there. To say I was disappointed was a huge understatement. Nice perfume, but not worthy of the Illamasqua reputation. 

I envisioned something haunting, yet pretty. Something a little dangerous, but seductive. It was good but I wanted more. More darkness. More edge. More mystery. More staggering beauty. More... MORE. 

I found it.

Euphorium Brooklyn's Pétales fits the bill in spades. 

I swear it starts with an innocent olfactory feint that smells like, I know I'm nuts, but--- well, I get rootbeer for a second. The fizz of grapefruit and florals must be to blame, as they mix with the spicy sweetness of star anise and pepper, the bite of galbanum, and the smoothness of honey. 

But that's just a little game, because this flirtatious scent turns quickly into a much more mature scent.

Spray Pétales to wrap yourself in a slightly mysterious perfume with naughty indoles, an armful of blossoms, and a deeply sexy base. Then watch out! 

Pétales , Brooklyn Euphorium. Available at TwistedLily.com

Family: Floriental. Firmly unisex. Projection is moderate, though you could amp this mother with extra sprays - if you dare. Length of wear is "hours and hours." Cost is in the moderately-expensive range, but snatch up a sample for only $4 and see if you agree: it's worth it. I smell rose and lily and crisp greens snapping over sparkling citrus. A river of honeyed spice flows beneath, before ending in a musky animalic heaves.

Notes: Rose, Lavender, Orchid, Hyacinth, Linden Blossom, Lily, Iris, Orange Blossom, Violet, Orris, Jasmine, Geranium, Palmarosa, Pettigrain sur la Fleurs, Galbanum, Green Stem, Moss, Pink Grapefruit, Fig, Honey, Star Anise, Elemi, Black Pepper, Vetiver, Labdanum, Benzoin, Tolu Balsam, Ambergris, Indole, Tonka Musk

Perfume Review: En Passant (Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle)

Lilacs in Window

I'm a little insane. Despite being viciously allergic to lilacs, I look forward to their blooms every Spring. And as soon as I see them, I pace impatiently until they open up and release their scent. Maybe pacing for a few days, which is exhausting, explains what happens next. Maybe not.

As soon as possible, once the sweet and high-pitched scent of lilac is released, I stick my face in the blooms and inhale repeatedly. Dizzy from the smell, I stagger towards the house with armsful of blooms as the histamines start their assault. It's a blissful mess of a week. I should a) have my head examined, b) invest in Kleenex, and c) get more vases - it's almost lilac season!

It might be smarter to invest in lilac perfumes. I never said I was smart. However, I have now identified a(nother) lilac-prominent scent to add to my perfume wardrobe. The first was Lilac, by Elizabeth W, and I'll review it another time. Today, I want to discuss En Passant, one of the Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle.

When I first inhale En Passant, I am surprised by the wet, fresh lilac scent. It's not so much dew-laden blooms as lilacs blooming near a fountain.

As the initial indolic ¹ blast softens, a fresh and light aspect merges with the lilacs and water. While I don't smell straight-up cucumber, learning that the note is present makes me nod my head in understanding. This is no fake-y cucumber à la a cheap body lotion, though. It reminds me more of the ice cold "cucumber water" served at a local spa. Recipe: slices of cucumber get tossed in water; pour. Simple, cool, refreshing, and light.

lilacs by the window

One of my main complaints with other lilac scents, aside from an overly synthetic and plastic scent, is a cloying, overbearing sweetness. There's none of that here thanks in part to the cucumber and water notes, but also to the "wheat note".

Malle's staff told scent critic Chandler Burr that this perfume was "born in the instant that Giacobetti somewhere on a street in her native Italy passed a bakery and a florist and got pastry, flowers, and street all at once." ² True or not, it explains the wheat.

balloon, edited

Some people smell bread in En Passant. I do not. However, I do feel that the lilac, water and cucumber is somewhat anchored by a slightly yeasty note that both expands and holds the composition. I'm currently imagining a lilac balloon tied to a weight. It's kind of like that: the scent is weighted slightly bit still allowed to move and drift, nearly weightless.

After the initial blast, the lilac seems as almost distant. To me, it's more like smelling the blooms through sheers in a window or from across the room. Distinct, but not in-yer-face. As much as I love lilacs, I'm OK with that distance. The heady smell of lilacs can tire a nose quickly. Here, it wafts gently, allowing you to smell it during the entire progression of the perfume.


En Passant is fairly linear, but multifaceted. In other words, it has different nuances but doesn't  evolve or change much over time.

Unfortunately, a balloon eventually loses it's buoyancy, and blooms fade and die. En Passant doesn't droop or wilt, but instead softly fades off and away, as if the balloon were released from its anchor. Sadly, this happens too soon - about 2 1/2 or 3 hours after application. It's worth reapplying, in my book, and I look forward to adding this unique perfume to my collection permanently.

Until then, you can find me pacing in front of the lilac bushes.

<sub>Fragrance: En Passant
House: Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle
Nose: Olivia Giacobetti
Released: 2000
Notes: white lilac, orange leaves, cucumber, absolute wheat, watery notes
(via NST, Basenotes)
Sample: dabbed from a sample vial

Final word: Spring in a bottle.</sub>

The Purple Balloon