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Posted by Dain, Friday, April 11, 2008 3:36 AM (Eastern) Three times she looks over her shoulder, the ersatz sophistication that is the irresistible lure of... err... underage snatch. Baghari is my first time sniffing outside of those two behemoths of perfumery, Fracas and Bandit, abstract unto a point of aggression but with such utter self-possession that indifference is impossible. They are true icons in a glut of niche wannabes: imagine Dietrich (she wore both) standing amongst a glossy bunch of ten-for-a-dime starlets, and though her potent glamour would surely seem strange and heavy next to their easy prettiness, she would dominate them as surely as Fracas and Bandit would dominate L'Artisan Parfumeur. These are perfumes for women, the kind of women who demand respect by mere presence alone, not for girls who show a little skin for the attention. So it is very interesting to try a deliberately "youthful" fragrance from this otherwise very mature house. Aurélien Guichard's reorchestration recalls another of his works, Bond No. 9's Chinatown, a juice so saccharine it makes me teeth ache. Baghari's candied opalescence is applied with more grace. It begins with a citrusy burst of bergamot rounded by the deliciously soft brightness of violet and neroli, as well as a subtle touch of aldehydes, before it moves into a sugar-fueled heart of jasmine and rose, highlighting the jammy sweetness of jasmine's complicated aroma, a crystallizing concentration of sugars until the drydown picks up hints of powder, from a musk dosed with vetiver, iris, and vanilla. Though it's de rigueur to condemn fruity-florals, Baghari is an example of excellence in the genre, and not at all one to sneer at, and I personally hate sweet stuff, this is wonderful, a true giggle of a fragrance. Labels: beauty notes, perfume reviews, robert piguet |
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