by Olivia
Like Chinese Whispers, ideas that pass through different hands undergo a metamorphosis; their stories morph through the artistic prisms of different media, of different minds. La Belle Helene, a fruity chypre from Parfums MDCI is a perfume teased from the classical French dessert, Poires Belle-Helene – itself a gustatory reimagining of Offenbach’s 1864 operetta La Belle Helene, a parody on the onset of the Trojan War and Helen’s elopement from Paris. Whereas the dessert pays homage to the operetta with pears poached in sugar syrup, adorned with pod speckled vanilla ice cream, gilded with rich chocolate sauce and the amethystine jewels of crystalised violets, perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour plays out a rococo interpretation draped between modern chypre and velveteen oriental facets: an abstract, thoroughbred gourmand shot through a fruity-woody structure.
Just as in the most delicious desserts, the success of perfume is in the balance. Rather than the dense indulgence you might expect from a perfume based on pudding, La Belle Helene flirts with suggestions of the tantalizing and sumptuous but ultimately pushes back from gluttony: its decadence is portioned, understated, brief – like that of an amuse-bouche or a single spoonful of ganache sucked from a cold silver spoon. It is a house of cards, tense and fragile in equal measure, pitched and poised at a ginger equilibrium. Taken as a whole in fact its rather understated, even somewhat aloof in parts. At the top a cool, transparent shot of aldehydic lime tickles the nose elevating the glossy, rich floral heart and allowing, even at this stage, a flash of the dark ambered base to flicker through. My very favourite part, and to my mind perhaps this perfume’s most striking feature, comes soon after – an interplay of hawthorn and dry vetiver, which alongside the floral-leathery character of osmanthus conjures a near photorealist image of pear skin. This contradiction between rough, freckled skin – the texture of velvet rubbed in reverse – and succulent, lush flesh is a startling olfactory still life, completely delicious in its tangibility. It’s a very grown up, refined approach to ‘fruity’, eschewing the all too often saccharine, hyperglycemic shock of one dimensional, ‘shampoo’ pear accords.
As it dries, these grainy edges are lulled by a voluptuous fresh/cold lipstick accord – the rose and orris emulating the sweet puckering waxiness of vintage makeup, and further enriched by the tiniest amount of the burnt butteriness of ylang-ylang. Played in symphony with the rich and warm sugar plum and crystalline violet the heart is a floral fruity miscellany that through its layered chorus straddles the line just so between boudoir and bakery.
After this swell of the heart the base cuts in a more sober angle. A sitting up straight as the dusty cocoa, mossy qualities of cedar, a pinch of the bitter-spiced resin of myrrh and a prominent anisic licorice combine to ground the long ebbing half-life of this perfume in quotations of classical orientalism. A light hand of white musk, delicate as icing sugar and pearlescent as face powder, serves to feather dust and feminise, cocooning the base in its characteristic sense of lived in skin.
This is a clever, technically exciting perfume but it also wears with a beautiful naturalism and ease. Sharing a several times removed kinship with Feminite du Bois, and recalling at points both Caron’s Parfum Sacre (in its sweet, lipstick rose dustiness) and even Lolita Lempicka (through its fantastical violet-licorice dance between gourmand ‘feminine’ notes and baritone ‘masculine’ ones) La Belle Helene is a modern take on the baroque fruity chypre, a tease between sensuality and sobriety. A merging of cultural high society chypre and the fun loving, sweet toothed gourmand, it is in turns both sexy and cerebral; a perfume in which all constituent parts speak to each other fluently, creating a subtly shifting prism. A dappling effect in tones of muted pistachio and viridian drawing together complimentary textures from opposing surfaces: glossy and dry, silk and leather, cool and comfort. In its medley of perfectly pitched discord between realism and fantasy, it is a perfume unusual enough to be both strange and beautiful, mischievous but never weird. It’s seductive in it’s meeting of distinctive peculiarity and warm familiarity – interesting and easy to wear, it has elegance and sexiness running through it in parallel from top to bottom. This richness served with a deft hand conjures a sort of Marie Antoinette a la mode aesthetic – powdered and cheeky, tucked and puckered and flashing winks of pillowed flesh, managing at a step back to be both an alluring and absolutely satisfying.
I was just reading about La Belle Helene less than ten hours ago after an Osmanthus search on Luckyscent. I really want to try it now after reading this review. Plus, the timing of the post must be a sign from destiny 😛
Those little blurbs on Luckyscent always make everything sound so sumptuous, don’t they? I find myself drawn even to scents I instinctively know won’t be right for me! This is far from an osmanthus scent per se, but it would be an interesting one to sample for the treatment of that note and the ways in which its different facets (floral/leathery/fruity-jammy) are in turns drawn out and/or tempered by the other, neighbouring notes. I’d recommend trying it in any case just because it’s an intriguing, memorable blend. I hope you find some beauties on your osmanthus search!
Gorgeous, gorgeous review, Olivia.
Thank you so much, Tora! That means a lot.
Lovely review! I’m not sure how I feel about gourmands (I don’t deal well with a lot of heavy or densely sweet gourmands), but you make this sound utterly enticing.
I thought the same. SOME gourmand elements, but tempered with other things. I need to smell it.
Consider it part of your parental package next month! x
I’d say really this is only lightly gourmand (it doesn’t smell edible at all – much more abstract.) While admittedly, some days, I do love some of the heavy, gloopy monsters (!) this is much more approachable and refined – more breathable; and for me anyway, I find it wears beautifully in warmer weather too.
Seems like this is a direct reference to Marcel Duchamp’s Belle Haleine*. If so, very clever and post modern!
*see my last blog post entry if you’d like to read my “dissection”.
This review has convinced me I need to try this one, and maybe come out from under my vintage-loving rock on occasion.
I know. I want to smell it now as well. Olivia and I have quite similar tastes, so I am most definitely intrigued by it.
Brilliant review Olivia, simply brilliant. I am not a true lover of the gourmand genre, yet you have inspired me to seek this one out and to experience it.
It sounds very delicately balanced but still sensual. Me too.
Thank you! Really lovely to hear you enjoyed it. As I wrote above, I think someone who can merely tolerate sweeter elements in a scent/gourmand components may well feel drawn to this fragrance, even if they don’t feel entirely enamoured with pudding perfumes as a style. It’s got enough going on to cut the sweetness, to round out the fructose – and on drier skin than mine (I tend to amplify sweetness anyway) the vetiver/woods/licorice may well stand out more making the whole wear drier. As I said, in any case I think it’s simply an interesting and well made perfume that might be fun to sample just for the ride!