Had a bit of a bronchitis week – couldn’t get out of bed for three days but now on the mend. But why is it that in such situations I am always drawn to this kind of spiced, brocaded rose perfume? I am covered in this one today and I am loving it.
To quote myself from an old review:
Armani is a strange creature. To me it is a glorious mix of the chaste and the carnal, a baroque green rose chypre with a troubling ambery afterglow, overlaid delicately with herbs, woods, and spices. A ghostly girl in white ruffles who in reality has the heart of a tiger. Insistent, pallid, hypersensitive, you think of her at first, until her lushness and erotic undertones take over and you realize she is a powerhouse.
In certain reviews I have read about vintage Armani, the talk is all of chypre, and it is true that the scent, particularly in one early black vintage bottle I have, has quite a lot of oakmoss (the defining characteristic of this perfume group): but the benzoin and amber that graze the fuzzier, semi-oriental later stages of the scent, along with the heart notes of Turkish and Bulgarian roses, take it very far away from the witchier, darker scents we associate with that classification, such as Paloma Picasso, 1000, and Magie Noire.
Armani is a perfume of tension. The fluttering sweetness of the rosed heart is overlayed with an atypical top note of glinting, tart marigold/tagetes (a trendy note of the period, also a main feature in Lauren and Courrèges in Blue), and a very green accord of pineapple, galbanum and spearmint which persists throughout the fragrance, even in the more nebulous later stages. This accord, painted in virginal brushstrokes, contrasts brilliantly with the spiced Reine Margot below, those honeyed red roses buttressed with notes of cyclamen, orchid and narcissus. It is all very, very, sweet, and very clingy somehow, with a wide-eyed quality that disturbs and gets under the skin.
In 1982 I myself did not have any opportunities to smell this on anybody as the girls at my school were all wearing Impulse, or Exclamation! . The first time I smelled Armani Pour Femme was ten years later in Rome. I was waiting in line to enrol at the Università di Sapienza, and a girl, standing in front of me, who we will call Christina, introduced herself. It is possible that I am quite a callous, superficial person because what I remember more about her than anything else to this day is her scent : most other things have faded away. Having said that, it is also true she was very reticent and didn’t give much away herself. . But somehow she didn’t need to: she wore Armani to perfection, and it almost spoke for her: its sweetness, its strange greenness, and that disturbing, ambered aureole surrounded her with a very palpable sophisticated allure; a classical, almost grave, enigma.
Fantastic post! Looking forward to more.
More musings on long discontinued numbers like these or ?
How could I have forgotten this fragrance! Loved it and used it relentlessly. Thanks for the trip into nostalgia.
Wearing it RIGHT now – really making me feel good – smells more Faberge Brut / Dana Canoe sweet / fougere on me than the delicate green floral I remember on the British girl from Hong Kong
– I recommend seeking out a vintage bottle : very soothing !
Oh, one of my chosen scents at the boutique of Madame Madame Irene, my perfumista from the 70 ies till the 90ies, last century. ! Bought only once or twice. Can’t think why. And on the lookout ever since. My memory is darksweet and addictive. I wanted to bury myself in it. Wore it when going out to dance and on grand occasions. Not a perfume for everyday life. Maybe that’s why! Would love to wear it now! About 40 years later?
Happy Christmas and a good new year to all of you and of course to mon cher monsieur Ginza
🎩🍀🍀🍀
Ooh I love that you love this too – it makes sense.
I think that if you can find a bottle in decent condition – I added three drops of bergamot to waken her up- spray bottles might be better – you would still really enjoy this
Yes: dark, bittersweet but very vulnerable
kind of genius actually
You, too ?🤧 There’s a lot of it around…
Armani. I first smelled this on my friend. We were polar opposites. She was olive skinned ( courtesy of a Mediterranean heritage not often found in the West Midlands ) short black bob, smudged eyeliner with no other make up. Had a “uniform” of cotton shirts and tailored trousers .The kind of girl men never forget and didn’t have to do a thing. She WAS Armani. She never had to buy it herself.
She was also fickle and got bored easily. She gave me her last bottle, barely used.
Took a long time before I felt I could get away with it, too.
Theer were some fantastic spicy, floral chypres and aldehydes in the early 80’s: Often Italian too. Chypres with a kick. I think this started them. And Fendi ended them. In between we had the likes of Gianni Versace, Gianfranco Ferre, Gucci №3, K de Krizia, Trussardi…
It was a very good time to start wearing perfume in earnest
Merry Christmas 🎄
Wow !
The white cotton shirts and tailored trousers? The fickle insouciance ?
EXACTLY how this perfume is – how wonderful you got to experience her erotic coldness firsthand. Where is she now ?
Me wearing it is ludicrous compared to how it CAN smell -on a girl. But I wear it anyway
Where in the Midlands ? As you know I am a Birmingham (well, Solihull) boy myself
What you say about the spicy 80’s floral chypres is interesting : for me, there is a direct lineage between Opium, Dioressence, Lagerfeld Italianate Frenchness leading into Krizia etc : the full fur coat thing, Ungaro Diva etc, but Armani steps leftwards into the shadows with the green and herbal laurels; much more introverted (at least initially ). Did you ever actually find it a little CREEPY on her, because I did. Aspect of wide eyed stalker
Superb, Neil. Glad I had a chance to catch this.
Were you ever a wearer ? Nice to see you
Catching up on everything I’ve missed. I’d just assumed you were away in monk-like recovery mode, but I read now you’ve got things postponed. That’s been quite the wait for you (I’m not good with waiting.)
Yes, I loved Armani, and still have some in parfum in the same bottle as the first photo. It is vivid still. I actually find it quite dry myself: not especially sweet. The blending is flawless. It’s rather rich and baroque up close, but it is still as you remember it from a distance, “a delicate green floral.”
The beauty of your reviews of vintage fragrances is the chance to revisit these familiar compositions with your own fresh perspective (the most valuable thing), and with the knowledge we didn’t have back then about their individual notes. I ran to dab some on, and oh YES, tagetes and the Lauren connection! It’s so obvious now you’ve pointed it out. I can’t believe how unchanged it is; I mean, I’ve had this bottle for eons, from the year it was released.
Just a PS. I really liked your Ombre Rose post. It is my fave way to get a great big kick of dense, powdery rosewood, and brings back all sorts of marvelously bittersweet memories of my younger self, and of the lovely boy who splashed out on a bottle of extrait for me, the first time he’d ever bought a bottle of fragrance for any girl. It’s true: you really don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.
Ombre Rose is so good, isn’t it ? I have never smelled it on another human being though – which is a shame
Well—another bulls-eye with the chypre and the green. I’m not completely sure I have the right item, but the bottle is the same shape. What I got on first try was a combination of Giacomo Silences and Niki de Saint Phalle (both of which I can only wear with green or blue, but which I love, particularly the latter—something a little dirty in it). This one seems very gentle and powdery while steering clear of cheap boudoir/ballet associations I can’t stomach. I’ll have to consider a crisp white shirt! My small not-for-sale bottle came with an Eau Parfumée in the same shape, which could be wearable in summer with something floral and red—it would need some heat to take the edge off.
Ooh I was actually secretly hoping you would get this – definitely not cheap boudoirish – enigmatically elegant. I love your insistence on the right colour for perfumes.
Do you wear black ? I think black and white are perfect for this. Delighted you got it !
I was tidying up Les Parfums yesterday and re-smelled Silences. You are absolutely spot on with the Armani linkage – now I like it even more.