Orange Creamsicle perfume, anyone?
That’s what the Sephora saleslady who gave me a Tom Ford White Patchouli sample called Atelier Cologne’s unisex Orange Sanguine. “You’ve got to smell this, it’s uncanny!” Little did she know, I have never had an orange Creamsicle, so I had nothing to compare the scent to. Still, it resonated with me enough that the next time I was around I tried some more of the line.
Besides Orange Sanguine, I tried Vetiver Fatal (my friend Stacey agrees that this is a must-have), and of course, Vanille Insensee. Whilst I didn’t love it as much as Vetiver Fatal, I thought it’d be a safer sniff, at least for the first from a brand.
Let’s talk about the company for a minute. They’re a niche brand with 14 fragrances (as of March 2014). From their ‘story’ page:
Atelier Cologne is the first Maison de Parfum dedicated entirely to Cologne, the legendary fragrance classic.
My problem with this is that Cologne (which really shouldn’t be capitalized, not being a proper noun [unless they’re referring to Cologne, Germany]) is not a ‘legendary fragrance classic’, but an industry term to describe a specific type of product (2%-5% oil, as shown in this infographic). Grammar and political correctness aside, the page goes on to talk about the creators, Sylvie Ganter and Christophe Cervasel, and the concept. Essentially, they aim to take old-fashioned cologne blends (complete with a strong citrus presence) and renew them – hmm.
Today it is snowing (again), so I’ve nothing better to do than spray this and watch it develop over the course of the day.
The Sephora sample comes in a clear plastic vial within a plastic baggie, and the fluid is exceptionally clear-looking.
A 2011 release, the creator of Vanille Insensee may be Jérome Epinette, Cecile Krakower (MAC’s MV3) or Ralf Schwieger (YSL’s Baby Doll), all of whom are listed as the brand’s perfumers. Contrary to the information I presented you with earlier, the brand claims that Vanille Insensee has a 15% oil concentration, which, of course, makes it a parfum, not a cologne. They emphasize (rather romantically) that this is a unisex fragrance, as is the rest of their line. Additionally, on the fragrance’s page, they list where each ingredient is from – interesting. Also, in case you were wondering, Google Translate claims ‘insensee’ means ‘senseless’ – senseless vanilla?
The top notes include lime, coriander, and cedrat, and I find the most prominent of the three to be the coriander. It gives the fragrance its initial earthy deepness that I fell in love with in the first place. It smells to me like an abandoned agricultural field in the end of summer – dusty and full of sunshine. Then, something changes in the formula, something blindfolds you and takes you away from the field to something similar but different. You realize you’re sitting at the edge of a dried lake, the spiciness of it is gone, replaced by a silky vanilla and dried moss. This perfume makes you want a cold glass of water, it does! Even when you pull your nose away from it, it lingers in your throat, parches you, enchants you, makes you crave more. What a completely fascinating fragrance, and how entirely unwearable for anything at all besides being fascinated. Luxurious, yes. Potent, yes. Senseless, indeed.
Collective thoughts about what I’ve sniffed today: I can’t get over this vial. It’s such a bizarre thing, and yet it works. You’ve heard what I think, now it’s time for you to get a whiff – let me know what you think!
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