From the Perfumer’s website:
On the Collection Itself:
“A collection of ten historical perfumes designed especially for DSH's "eau de toilette" lecture given at the Denver Art Museum (to coincide with their exhibit ARTISANS and KINGS: Selections from the Louvre). Based on months of research and development, this collection of perfumes has been created to illustrate 17th and 18th Century styles of fragrance with some re-creations of perfumes that would have been worn by the luminaries of Versailles at the Courts of Louis XIV, Louis XV and Louis XVI.”
On the Fragrance Itself:
“Eau de Fleurs d'Oranger du Roi (The Perfumed Court) "Orange blossom water of the King". Orange blossom was one of the most sought after essences of the 18th Century and in the Court of Louis XV (called "Le Cour Parfumée - The Perfumed Court) it was the epitomy of grace and lightness. Eau de Fleurs d'Oranger was synonymous with Louis XV, so much so that it was renamed "Eau de Fleurs d'Oranger du Roi", posthumously.*”
The tenderly rendered nuances of Eau de Fleurs d’Oranger follow a quiet, light and flowing development, going from one stage to the next without once urgently nudging the nose to take note. The result is, in a word, cohesive. The opening is citrusy fresh and cooling, revitalizing the senses with the traditional smell of lemony cologne. Slowly, the lovely scent of cologne bigarade emerges, courtesy of the bitter orange. And just when you think that this is so brisk it can never veer too far away from the realm of traditional cologne, the intensity starts to fade, making room for the exquisite, slightly green aroma of neroli bathed in orange blossom. As time goes by, the fragrance changes again, slowly flooding me with memories of a sun-flooded Greek kitchen, where deserts and syrups are being prepared, as it fully blossoms into the characteristic smell of “anthonero”, the orange blossom water so commonly used by my mother during my youth. Its scent is light and airy, a pastel watercolor image of orange blossom with a heart of bitter almond essence. This tiny nutty heart is met expertly by the slightly nutty, gently woody citrus smell of petitgrain at the base, and lifted by ambergris.
Although this gorgeous perfume that managed the Herculean task of kindling my affection for orange blossom fragrances doesn’t last awfully long on my skin unless I apply liberally, it lasts for days on end on fabric and I have taken to spraying everything, from gauzy scarves to the lined interiors of my bags because its scent is simply swoon-worthy. So far nothing has stained.
* From the book "A Scented Palace"
Images: Flickr originally uploaded by Md. Ziaul Hoque and www.sxc.hu