Oscar de la Renta Esprit d'Oscar: Surprise Surprise

Reformulations, sometimes (as here) referred to as "updates" or "modern interpretations" are rarely, in my experience, cause for anything but dread.  So Esprit d'Oscar is a nice little surprise. I was, and still am, partial to the original Oscar de la Renta fragrance, known simply as Oscar, which was created in 1977 by Jean-Louis Sieuzac (he of Opium, Bel Ami, Fahrenheit, and Dune--all wonderful). Primarily a spiced tuberose affair, Oscar has seen several alterations since its debut, and while I enjoy the latest version less, I do own and appreciate it.

The original was more subtle, and handled its opening and transitions more gracefully. It's not quite as buoyant or resonant now as it once was, and shares with several butchered florals (Sung and Giorgio come to mind) something pretty shockingly shrill up top, a synthetic bombast which pierces my consciousness like an ice pick to a bunny rabbit. You can feel the original structure in there, but it's more crudely articulated.  It's a lot more brutal, to use a popular expression.  If Fracas is one of the first Brutalist creations, as Chandler Burr declares, Oscar has become, in the last decade or so, a bit of a splatter painting.  It's more than a little all over the place.

Esprit is being positioned as an entirely new fragrance, but de la Renta is very clear about the fragrance being an update, too, which is technically trying to have it both ways. It's hard to blame the company's attempts to simultaneously distance itself from and embrace its lineage. The current Oscar, still available at the mall but a mainstay at drugstores across middle America as well, has quite an Old Lady image to shake. Anything which isn't fruity floral seems to fall into this category by most casual sniffs, but few more so than present day Oscar, which conjures visions of hair nets, blue rinse, eighties ruffled blouses, and the plastic covered sofas one finds in grandmother's house. Remarkably, Esprit does have it both ways. It takes everything which was fresh and gorgeous about the original, and cleans it up like someone removing the grime from a masterwork, allowing a viewer to see it anew.

It might be that de la Renta, with Esprit, is making a bid for contemporary inoffensiveness, because it's true, this is one of those fragrances it's hard to imagine anyone being even the slightest bit offended by. Yet it accomplishes this without any sense of having dumbed itself down. Esprit is a lovely, mellifluous thing, and reminds me more than anything of "Oscar" by way of Chanel. It has something to it that reminds me of good sandalwood, though the pyramid lists none. There's a rich but mellow creaminess at play, featuring jasmine, tuberose, and orange blossom. This combination, once past the bright, even sparkling top notes, reminds me very much of my bottle of 1980s Oscar, and like some of the Chanel fragrances I admire there is a fine soap quality to the composition, making it feel clean without being particularly antiseptic or insipidly citrus. The notes list lemon, bergamot, and citron, but to make another Chanel comparison, the overall effect, despite this opening, doesn't feel presided over by it, as it does, say, in No. 5 Eau Premiere.

De la Renta assures you this is a long lasting floral oriental, and while not exactly short lived, I wouldn't say it's particularly tenacious. It has a nice subtlety to it without feeling underdone. I can smell it hours later but it doesn't project very forcefully, and one of the great things about Esprit is that it's pretty difficult to over-apply.  It makes a great masculine as well, sharing something (don't ask me what, exactly) with Prada Amber Homme.  When you consider how often older fragrances are ruined these days--hello, Opium--Esprit is practically a marvel. I at first thought the price tag was steep. Having spent some time with the fragrance, I've changed my mind. It's a far better use of my money than many niche fragrances I've smelled recently.  Compared to them, it's a bargain.

It was created by Frank Voelkl and Ann Gottlieb.

Chanel No. 5 Eau Premiere: A Review

I didn’t begin my perfume journey by loving the classics. I came of age in the late 80’s, & early 90’s wearing fragrances like Poison, Ungaro Diva, Givenchy Amarige, LouLou and CK Obsession. Ten years ago, I would have thought something like Guerlain’s Jicky or Mitsouko simply smelled dated and heavy and until recently I thought Chanel No. 5 smelled like dishwashing liquid. Perhaps a really expensive dishwashing liquid, the kind that rich folks buy at Williams Sonoma, but some sort of cleaning fluid nonetheless.

I’ve read that our sense of taste and smell changes every seven years. I think this is definitely true when I look at my timeline of fragrance loves. My taste in fragrance changes rather dramatically every 5-7 years or so. It was easier for me to love the classic Guerlains and Carons, these became fragrant treasures much earlier in my perfume journey. But, Chanel, took at least a decade of sniffing for me to love. And the love really showed up in 2008, last year was the year of Chanel for me. I couldn’t get enough Chanel and right at the moment that I began to love the original No. 5, Chanel introduced No. 5 Eau Premiere.

I like to view perfume releases through the lens of my imagined marketing aims of the company. Chanel had (and has) the most well-known and famous fragrance with No. 5, so why update it? I was perplexed. But with Chanel’s apparent “conquer the world” mentality, I guess they wanted every segment of the market to adore No. 5. I imagine most young-ish people don’t particularly like No. 5, with all its obvious aldehydes, synthetic qualities and the “coldness” of it; perhaps it seems dated and old fashioned to them. Surely the diehard lovers of No. 5 nearly fainted at the idea of tinkering with something like No. 5 (aside from the reformulations it must have undergone over the years, which many diehards already lament).

I sniffed No. 5 Eau Premiere with an open mind and I am duly impressed. Eau Premiere is obviously No. 5 – there’s no mistaking the original scent inside whatever changes have been made to this creation. It seems to me that Chanel created a sort of abridged or “Cliff’s Notes” version of the original with Eau Premiere – something that is much easier to love and more obviously modern. Eau Premiere is more citrusy, less powdery to my nose, and less sharp and cold. It’s as if Chanel took the most crowd-pleasing part of No. 5, magnified it, took a snapshot and put it in a bottle. The aldehydes are there, there’s no doubt, and it still resembles the original No. 5 to such an extent that those who aren’t dissecting it might not notice a big difference. I think it’s less cold, but this isn’t to say it’s a particularly warm perfume, just a bit less cold and aloof. Eau Premiere is like the easy-going, gregarious sister to the more classically sophisticated and formal older sister. The original No. 5 has a starched and slightly stiff quality, every hair in its place, every nail perfectly manicured; you could say her personality is reserved. Eau Premiere has lightness, rounder edges and playfulness. I imagine this description is precisely what Chanel strove to create.

In my opinion, Eau Premiere is a well done perfume. I can smell the differences between it and the original No. 5, but I also find them similar enough that Eau Premiere is a legitimate and respectable quality flanker. I can’t say that I actually prefer one over the other – I like both equally. There are days when I want the original and I have already spent many days enjoying Eau Premiere.

There is a downside to Eau Premiere, though, and that is longevity. I find Eau Premiere to be fleeting where the original is not. I wonder if this is intentional? Are modern perfumes expected to be fleeting? Does the segment of the population that Eau Premiere is marketed toward prefer lighter, low-sillage fragrances? My guess is yes. Chanel doesn’t seem to miss a beat.

Longevity: Less than average
Sillage: Soft
Rating: 4 Stars