Violets
are a wonderful thing, so when I found out about the house of Dsquared2 and their penchant for these fine purple flowers, I was willing to
overlook the corny number 2 at the end of the house's name. Was it an
effort to show that they remember junior high school math class?
Don't know. Then there were the wood-encased bottles with truly
absurd text on the unfinished cardboard box empirically
indistinguishable, I might add, from the boxes in which testers are
housed. The box of Dsquared2
He Wood
reads:
Il legno naturale che racchiude il profumo, rende il prodotto preziosamente unico, vivo ed originale nelle sue differenti venature.The natural wood framing the perfume, makes the product preciously unique and original in its distinctive grain.
Le bois naturel entoure le parfum et avec ses différentes veines rend le produit précieusement unique, vif et original.
We'll
be the judge of that. Oh boy. It appears that the public relations team at
Dsquared2 never
learned, first, the correct use of a comma and, second, that all
important lesson “show don't say.” Nonetheless, with violets
looming large and purple in my mind, I decided to overlook all of the
evidence and buy these perfumes blind since they were quite
inexpensive and samples seemed pretty hard to come by. What did I
find?
Dsquared2
He Wood (2007)
I
have to admit that the opening of He Wood is something of a turn-off. I smell basically a blast of that
all-too-common and becoming increasingly and annoyingly more common
pseudo-amberish/pseudo-cedarish aromachemical stuff—apparently
it's a mixture of ambroxan and iso-E-super and what-not, and it's
being sold by the ton to houses large and small. It is strong, loud,
boorish and brash, and it often shrouds all of the other notes
alleged to be present in the same perfume.
Perhaps
I am hyperosmic to the stuff. All I know is that I am smelling Le
Labo Another 13 and
Juliette Has A Gun Not A Perfume
and Escentric Molecules Molecule 01
and Molecule 02 in way
too many bottles these days, and most of them do not bear any of
those names.
Did
perfumers blow it by revealing to us the secrets to some of their
successes? Perhaps. Now that they've laid their cards out on the
table, we know it when we sniff it, and if we happen not to like it,
then this becomes the basis of an oft-repeated gripe. These
chemicals undoubtedly serve to enhance facets of well-composed
perfumes, but as focal notes they are not at all appealing to me.
I
am aware that Molecule 01 continues to be a best-seller at Aedes and other emporia, and perhaps
that's why perfumers have been opening up the spigot and letting it
flow long and hard, but I've just about had it with the stuff. It's
gotten to the point where perfumes which feature that
all-too-familiar scent are immediately removed from contention for a
possible full-bottle purchase. No, thank you very much. I've smelled
far too much of the stuff, and in places where I frankly think that
it should not be. A recent truly off-putting example: Acqua di Parma
Gelsomino Nobile,
which does start out nobly but then the jasmine petals are literally
throttled before being beaten to death by this base.
Have
I been spoiled by Miller Harris, whose wood-centric perfumes, En
Sens de Bois, Fleurs de
Bois, Terre de Bois,
and others, actually smell like wood rather than aromachemical
mixtures? Perhaps. I only know that I've had it with the vat-produced
“neither amber nor wood” juice being used to substitute for
loftier and more refined and, above all, more natural materials.
I know that there are people out there who like the scent to which I am referring. I read reviews all the time by people who consider this scent to be the scent of wood. But it is not the scent of wood. It is the scent of aromachemicals.
Fortunately,
the opening of He Wood is
only the opening, and it is moderated by an expanding violet facet—both leaves and petals—which arrives on the scene to rescue my nose from what otherwise
would be an unwearable perfume. By the drydown, the blend is quite
nice. It is sweeter than I'd have expected for a made-for-men
fragrance, but it does not hold a candle to its fair
sister, She Wood.
Perfumer:
Daphné
Bugey
Notes
(from
Parfumo.net):
violet, violet leaf, vetiver, cedar, amber, musk, fir
Dsquared2
She Wood (2008)
It
took me more than a year to write a review of Dsquared2
She Wood after having acquired a bottle because I was
ambivalent about this perfume. I certainly loved the violets, but
there was something about the aquatic side of the composition which
kept me at a distance. Maybe that makes sense, since I do not usually
like aquatic fragrances. What is interesting about this one is that
it does not manifest any of the seasickness-inducing qualities so
common in the aquatic category. I've now made some inroads into my
100 ml bottle, and never has She Wood made me feel
angst-ridden or sick.
So
why was I ambivalent? I suppose because I felt and continue to feel
that the quality is closer to the Salvatore Ferragamo Incanto
series than to more sophisticated violet perfumes such as Histoires
de Parfums Blanc Violette or L'Artisan Parfumeur Violette
Verte. In terms of similarly priced violet offerings, She Wood
is not very close to Trussardi Jeans (or its compositional cousin,
Alexander McQueen My Queen), nor is it very much like the
Sonoma Scent Studio violet perfumes. I recently discovered that She
Wood does bear similarities to Ellen Tracy Bronze, but
that's probably neither here nor there, since Bronze was
discontinued after a short production life during which it seems
only to have been sold at TJMaxx.
Despite
its name, She Wood seems very limpid and aqueous rather than
opaque and woody, but there is just a tinge of wood in this
composition, which seems to me closest to vetiver. Perhaps that is
what makes this creation a bit odd. Rather than the usual treatment
of wood, here we have a wood-flavored water. All perfumes are aqueous
solutions, but this is a case where the water seems like an
important note. This composition is not at all musky to my nose, and
I think that floral woody aquatic would be the best category to place
it in. As far as I know, it would be nearly alone, flanked only by
Bronze. The violet and aquatic aspects are similar to
Balenciaga Paris, but the smidgeon of wood sets She Wood
apart.
This
is a likeable and wearable and public-space-friendly perfume. I am not convinced that it is unisex, but there are probably some daring guys out there who would not mind in the least smelling like sweet watery violets.
Perfumer:
Daphné
Bugey
Notes
(from
Parfumo.net):
bitter orange oil, jasmine, lemon, violet leaf, violet blossom,
heliotrope, cedar, vetiver, amber
Concluding
Assessment: His or Hers?
HE or SHE WOOD?
There
are those who poo-poo the violet, considering it to be cheap and
childlike. They think that because the scent of violets is easily mimicked
using inexpensive ionones that somehow violet perfumes are less
noble. My approach is different. I do not care how much the
scent-making ingredients cost. So what if the scent of violet is
cheap to produce? That just means more violets for me! So you see, my
railing against the pseudo-amber/pseudo-cedar aromachemical STUFF is
not really a snobby economic dismissal. No, I just think that it does
not smell good, and when too much of it is used, it covers everything
else about a perfume which might have made it beautiful.
Small
wonder, then, that in the final analysis, my vote today goes to Hers: She
Wood. Neither She Wood nor He Wood contains much in
the way of an authentic woody scent—as the names certainly imply
that they should—but in She Wood I don't have to wait for
the aggressive base to make way for the violets. No, they are there
from the beginning, limpid, sweet, watery, and clean.
Running
Tally: His or Hers?
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