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06/04/2021
MonsieurTest
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MonsieurTest
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46
The longed-for moment - the dreaded hour. Stele for Patou
No one picks, distills and composes such beautiful bouquets of flowers as Patou. That's my impression as a - unfortunately late..., too late! - stumbled upon some Patou perfumes. Soft, buttery-framed, delicate florals. Roses, jasmine, osmanthussis far from any headache hints. Wonderful little flowers, bound in creamy bases.
Nothing pungent.
Soft round pleasantness.
Sheer delight.
So the impressions of my Vernasungen of Sublime, Joy, Mille etc. as well as the here to praise / deplore 'L'Heure attendue'.
'The awaited hour' is the name of this enchanting perfume. A little more pathetic and translated with melting: the longed-for moment. The perfume was first composed after the end of World War 2 by Henri Alméras, the house perfumer Jean Patou during three decades. It was launched in 1946. The longed-for moment celebrated here was the liberation of France, the end of war, occupation, Nazi terror. And that, if Thomas Fontaine's recomposition of the wonderful, slightly 'brown' chypres, the only one I know of, comes close to the original, was celebrated in this deliciously gentle perfume in the most delicate, soft, not at all loudly triumphant way imaginable.
This longed-for moment begins with a delightful, very slightly tart opening, into which I associate (if disaggregations are at all meaningful and possible in Fontaine's ingenious art of blending) with florals as if under a brown aldehyde-neroli butter interspersed with hints of gently spicy patchouli. This longed-for moment continues with a sunny smile as the dreamy toned, never garish Patou flowers, here a subdued jubilant trio of rose, jasmine and ylang-ylang, spill into the heart.
And the anticipated hour fades out for hours on a gorgeous accord of civilly hedged patchouli alongside sandalwood and traces of spicy ambers. If you're a Guerlain fan, you think highly of the Guerlinade, that soft-spicy, gorgeously oscillating, pearlescent base accord with its great reverberant sequences. L'Heure attendue by Patou offers something very similar... and thus possibly not only in its name a salute to the great mother ship of French perfume art, Guerlain. Whose fragrance at the end of the First World War was Mitsouko (1919), and whose fascinating fragrance 'L'Heure bleue', rather akin to the one under review here, saw the evening light of Paris and the world in 1912, before the Grande Guerre.
'L'Heure attendue', at least in Thomas Fontaine's beautiful 2015 version is - like the 'L'Heure bleue' I cherish - a quiet fragrance: despite its florals, at most a stuffed trumpet. In a way, an anti-Shalimar.
In the first hour, before everything becomes wonderfully soft, creamy delicate and incredibly round, I sense a very gently animalic, dirty middle voice that gives the fine floral concerto a spicy, yet harmonious overtone. I suspect it is based on an artful blend of aldehydes with amber and patchouli notes. It is, however, miles away from the powerfully animalic civet of a Jicky or the massive smoke-balsam vanilla of Shalimar.
This fragrance, like its predecessor the 1946 original, flies strangely low under the radar at Parfumo. There is no commentary on the original of 'L'Heure attendue' and just one statement; on the reconstruction of Thomas Fontaine, this is the first commentary, after several statements by very knowledgeable Parfumo contributors.
This leads me to believe that the fragrance wasn't particularly widely available even before then. And that, unfortunately, the Patous 2015 heirloom-appreciation action did not attract much attention either. The recent, highly regrettable discontinuation of the Patou brand certainly also points to the lack of commercial success of these fragrances today. Which is very sad for perfume and history buffs.
In 1946, Patou's post-war advertising poster - with sunrise iconography rendered in blue - celebrated the longed-for moment of civilian, of good, of refined luxury after the horrors of war, occupation and fascist terror. Implicitly, it also pointed to the evil preceding years, "Jean Patou's first new perfume in 12 years."
The dreaded hour of the wonderful Collection Heritage Patous, founded only in 2014, came in 2019: the end of the great perfume history of the fashion house of Jean Patous, who died young in 1936. The dreaded hour, when a good perfume rich in history is discontinued, concerned here not only a single fragrance, but at once a good dozen great fragrances scooped by Henry Alméras and by Jean Kerléo, who was the perfume director of the House of Patou from 1967-1998.
Kerléo was co-founder in 1988 and then director for many years of the perfume archive Osmothèque in Versailles. Their main task according to Kerléo is the preservation of fragrance creations, books, formulas and scents for posterity. Also the recreation or re-creation of lost fragrances. No doubt he and his successors will have archived, preserved and researched the fantastic fragrance formulas and perfumes of the House of Patous. So that a return of these recently perished fragrances should be possible in some (nostalgic or just gently luxurious) future. That would be then, for perfume friends, again a 'longed for hour'.
The fate of the Patou brand is probably not entirely atypical of the trade and eventual demise of great fragrance brands. Luxury licensing conglomerate 'Designer Parfums' (owned by India's billionaire Mehta family) acquired the brand in 2011 from Procter and Gamble, who had bought Patou from Jean Patou's heirs in 2001. At Designer Parfumes, the fine luxury house of Patou was now in curious perfume brand company between a revered address like Scherrer, solidly likeable designer fragrance brands like Cerrutti 1881 and Aigner, and the celebrity scents of Jennifer Lopez, Naomi Campbell, Ariana Grande, and finally testosterone brands like Porsche Design and Playboy.
One might have thought that the final takeover of Patou's trademark rights by LVMH (which owns finest perfume houses like Guerlain, Dior, Bulgari, Givenchy and a few more) meant good things, hence a safeguarding of Patou's fragrance heritage. Things turned out differently: Surprisingly, the luxury group revived the long-discontinued Patou fashion brand, but transferred the trademark rights to the name of the most famous Patou fragrance, JOY, to Dior. Where now a completely different smelling JOY is thrown among the people (er: sold expensively). And had the Patou perfume production stopped. Certainly there were solid economic reasons for this (low sales figures of the Patou fragrances and quite expensive production costs etc.). Nevertheless, it is infinitely sad with regard to the admirers of the fine Patou fragrances and to the otherwise so proudly praised French perfume cultural heritage.
With 0.01% of B. Arnault's fortune, the Patou fragrances could easily continue to be made. And with a little imagination, probably market them profitably, would like to call to Paris.
If this will somehow and sometime be heard, and Patou and 'L'Heure attendue' will one day resurrect, then that will be, we suspect, a longed-for hour for perfume history.
My thanks to Barbara R3mt9 for her generous bottlings of this and several other Patou fragrances!
Nothing pungent.
Soft round pleasantness.
Sheer delight.
So the impressions of my Vernasungen of Sublime, Joy, Mille etc. as well as the here to praise / deplore 'L'Heure attendue'.
'The awaited hour' is the name of this enchanting perfume. A little more pathetic and translated with melting: the longed-for moment. The perfume was first composed after the end of World War 2 by Henri Alméras, the house perfumer Jean Patou during three decades. It was launched in 1946. The longed-for moment celebrated here was the liberation of France, the end of war, occupation, Nazi terror. And that, if Thomas Fontaine's recomposition of the wonderful, slightly 'brown' chypres, the only one I know of, comes close to the original, was celebrated in this deliciously gentle perfume in the most delicate, soft, not at all loudly triumphant way imaginable.
This longed-for moment begins with a delightful, very slightly tart opening, into which I associate (if disaggregations are at all meaningful and possible in Fontaine's ingenious art of blending) with florals as if under a brown aldehyde-neroli butter interspersed with hints of gently spicy patchouli. This longed-for moment continues with a sunny smile as the dreamy toned, never garish Patou flowers, here a subdued jubilant trio of rose, jasmine and ylang-ylang, spill into the heart.
And the anticipated hour fades out for hours on a gorgeous accord of civilly hedged patchouli alongside sandalwood and traces of spicy ambers. If you're a Guerlain fan, you think highly of the Guerlinade, that soft-spicy, gorgeously oscillating, pearlescent base accord with its great reverberant sequences. L'Heure attendue by Patou offers something very similar... and thus possibly not only in its name a salute to the great mother ship of French perfume art, Guerlain. Whose fragrance at the end of the First World War was Mitsouko (1919), and whose fascinating fragrance 'L'Heure bleue', rather akin to the one under review here, saw the evening light of Paris and the world in 1912, before the Grande Guerre.
'L'Heure attendue', at least in Thomas Fontaine's beautiful 2015 version is - like the 'L'Heure bleue' I cherish - a quiet fragrance: despite its florals, at most a stuffed trumpet. In a way, an anti-Shalimar.
In the first hour, before everything becomes wonderfully soft, creamy delicate and incredibly round, I sense a very gently animalic, dirty middle voice that gives the fine floral concerto a spicy, yet harmonious overtone. I suspect it is based on an artful blend of aldehydes with amber and patchouli notes. It is, however, miles away from the powerfully animalic civet of a Jicky or the massive smoke-balsam vanilla of Shalimar.
This fragrance, like its predecessor the 1946 original, flies strangely low under the radar at Parfumo. There is no commentary on the original of 'L'Heure attendue' and just one statement; on the reconstruction of Thomas Fontaine, this is the first commentary, after several statements by very knowledgeable Parfumo contributors.
This leads me to believe that the fragrance wasn't particularly widely available even before then. And that, unfortunately, the Patous 2015 heirloom-appreciation action did not attract much attention either. The recent, highly regrettable discontinuation of the Patou brand certainly also points to the lack of commercial success of these fragrances today. Which is very sad for perfume and history buffs.
In 1946, Patou's post-war advertising poster - with sunrise iconography rendered in blue - celebrated the longed-for moment of civilian, of good, of refined luxury after the horrors of war, occupation and fascist terror. Implicitly, it also pointed to the evil preceding years, "Jean Patou's first new perfume in 12 years."
The dreaded hour of the wonderful Collection Heritage Patous, founded only in 2014, came in 2019: the end of the great perfume history of the fashion house of Jean Patous, who died young in 1936. The dreaded hour, when a good perfume rich in history is discontinued, concerned here not only a single fragrance, but at once a good dozen great fragrances scooped by Henry Alméras and by Jean Kerléo, who was the perfume director of the House of Patou from 1967-1998.
Kerléo was co-founder in 1988 and then director for many years of the perfume archive Osmothèque in Versailles. Their main task according to Kerléo is the preservation of fragrance creations, books, formulas and scents for posterity. Also the recreation or re-creation of lost fragrances. No doubt he and his successors will have archived, preserved and researched the fantastic fragrance formulas and perfumes of the House of Patous. So that a return of these recently perished fragrances should be possible in some (nostalgic or just gently luxurious) future. That would be then, for perfume friends, again a 'longed for hour'.
The fate of the Patou brand is probably not entirely atypical of the trade and eventual demise of great fragrance brands. Luxury licensing conglomerate 'Designer Parfums' (owned by India's billionaire Mehta family) acquired the brand in 2011 from Procter and Gamble, who had bought Patou from Jean Patou's heirs in 2001. At Designer Parfumes, the fine luxury house of Patou was now in curious perfume brand company between a revered address like Scherrer, solidly likeable designer fragrance brands like Cerrutti 1881 and Aigner, and the celebrity scents of Jennifer Lopez, Naomi Campbell, Ariana Grande, and finally testosterone brands like Porsche Design and Playboy.
One might have thought that the final takeover of Patou's trademark rights by LVMH (which owns finest perfume houses like Guerlain, Dior, Bulgari, Givenchy and a few more) meant good things, hence a safeguarding of Patou's fragrance heritage. Things turned out differently: Surprisingly, the luxury group revived the long-discontinued Patou fashion brand, but transferred the trademark rights to the name of the most famous Patou fragrance, JOY, to Dior. Where now a completely different smelling JOY is thrown among the people (er: sold expensively). And had the Patou perfume production stopped. Certainly there were solid economic reasons for this (low sales figures of the Patou fragrances and quite expensive production costs etc.). Nevertheless, it is infinitely sad with regard to the admirers of the fine Patou fragrances and to the otherwise so proudly praised French perfume cultural heritage.
With 0.01% of B. Arnault's fortune, the Patou fragrances could easily continue to be made. And with a little imagination, probably market them profitably, would like to call to Paris.
If this will somehow and sometime be heard, and Patou and 'L'Heure attendue' will one day resurrect, then that will be, we suspect, a longed-for hour for perfume history.
My thanks to Barbara R3mt9 for her generous bottlings of this and several other Patou fragrances!
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