Sherapop
3
Eventually, a scrumptious black currant rose
I have always felt, deep down inside, that I should like the perfumes of the house of Maître Parfumeur et Gantier. This is no doubt in part because of the lore surrounding the name of Jean-François Laporte, who founded the house of L'Artisan Parfumeur--now wildly successful--before leaving to establish his own independent house, Maître Parfumeur et Gantier.
In truth, I can confess here among fragrant friends that L'Artisan Parfumeur is not my favorite house. I like their creations for the high quality of their ingredients, but they never really touch the inner core of my being. For a while I was thinking that perhaps the soul of L'Artisan was really that of Laporte and maybe he was just more of a perfumer than a businessman, which might explain why MPG is pretty low on most people's radar, while L'Artisan recently signed an agreement with... gasp... Sephora!
These were all inchoate ideas swirling about my mind for a couple of years. Once I obtained some MPG sample from a discount emporium, I found that the compositions were generally unbalanced, often difficult to understand, and sometimes just plain unpleasant. I wrote all of this off to the seamy provenance of my vials: one of those gray market discounters which may or may not have decent ambient warehouse storage conditions. On ne sait jamais...
I did buy a bottle of IRIS BLEU GRIS scent unsniffed, on the recommendation of the esteemed jpg, and I agree with him that it is an excellent perfume. My next foray began when awesome Awesomeness sent me a generous decanted sample of ROSE MUSKISSIME, which I have now worn several times.
Once again, I find to my surprise (why I continue to be surprised remains a mystery...) that this perfume is basically the opposite of a buy-at-the-counter creation. It's almost as though it was designed specifically to repel superficial consumers who buy on the basis of top notes. Why do I say this? Because the opening smells just like grape Jolly Ranchers candy! It's incredibly sweet, and the rose is totally MIA for several minutes.
What happens next, for those with the patience to wait, is that the sweetness cedes somewhat as the black currant leaf begins to emerge, transforming what had seemed to be grape Jolly Ranchers into true black currant candies. At this stage, it's still candy-like, but it's closer to a much more sophisticated currant pastille. Then the best stage begins: the rose peeks out from behind the fruits and currant leaves and becomes stronger and stronger, until, by the drydown, this really is a black currant rose perfume--and a nice one at that!
Patience and forbearance are needed to appreciate this composition, but to those who can look beyond the somewhat gauche opening, there really is beauty here to be found.