Rory Rants: Thoughts on Shalimar

As Robin wrote in her NST review, "Shalimar is so iconic that there isn’t much to be said on the subject that hasn’t already been said." Writing about it is simply an indulgence on my part, because it is such a dreamy, inspiring scent.

My journey into perfume can be traced back to my desperate attempts to replace my signature scent (first J'adore, then Hypnotic Poison) with something new. Guerlain's site has a "Fragrance Consultation." I took this while living a bohemian lifestyle in Berlin, and I was recommended Shalimar: "You like the voluptuousness of sensual notes."  After receiving my test results, I went with my French friend, Yoann, to a department store in Alexanderplatz. I found Shalimar, and certain that the online quiz had yielded my new signature scent, I excitedly sprayed it on my wrist, only to recoil in horror- what was this dense, animalic, woody, smokey, oriental- old lady?- scent?? To my nose, used to the squeaky clean fruity florals and watery scents of American department stores, this was just too much. Yoann, on the other hand, was smelling the bottle happily. "Mmmm, Shalimar! My mother wears this- a classic!" I tried to wrap my head around his acceptance of this scent, and couldn't.

After returning to Boston, I went with my fellow perfumista Megan (who had scored Mitsouko) to a department store to show her how strange Shalimar smelled. This time though, the scent of Shalimar was not horrifying to my nose, but to my surprise, rather alluring! Smelling it against the backdrop of Versace Bright Crystal, Marc Jacobs Lola, and other loud, shiny synthetics, there was something very mysterious and sexy about Shalimar. The dark, animalic base gave it more humanity than the other fragrances, a sensual appeal underlying the spicy, vanilla top. I ordered a bottle with my next Fragrancenet order, and it has been love ever since. I now understand Yoann's familiarity with this scent. Shalimar has a bold, almost crude, sexiness, and as Robin says, it "hails from an era before fresh-from-the-shower became everyone’s notion of sexy; Shalimar is sexy precisely because it smells unclean." Yet over that raunchiness is the sophisticated composure of a classic oriental. The harmonious oriental spiciness gives it an effortless sophistication, while the dirty edge makes it human and sexy, so that almost a hundred years after its creation, it is still a recognizable classic.

The history of Shalimar is as fascinating as the history of Mumtaz Mahal and the Shalimar gardens, but what I find even more interesting is the fact that Shalimar was created the same year as Chanel No. 5. The common myth is that Shalimar was created when Jacques Guerlain poured a new synthetic vanilla, ethyl vanillin, into a bottle of Jicky, thus bringing us into a new age of perfumery. In 1921, both Shalimar and No. 5 paved the way for the classic perfumes of the following decades. Somehow between the two, I find myself gravitating towards Shalimar. I love the story of No. 5- the creation of an androgynous perfume for a flapper generation- yet I find No. 5 to be very feminine. Maybe it's the aldehydes, the fame of being Marilyn Monroe's favorite perfume, or simply because it's a popular floral embraced by so many contemporary women, but whatever the reason, No. 5 feels a little stuffy to me, whereas Shalimar feels more sexy and wearable. Or perhaps No. 5 really is the more modern and forward looking perfume, but I prefer Shalimar because it is timelessly nostalgic. Shalimar looks back to a dreamier, sexier past of mythical gardens, love stories, and fantasy. It can be easily reinvented for these backwards times, pairing well with Grimes and a wardrobe of vintage leather and lace.