Saturday, May 11, 2013

Hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks...

A Review of Caron Tubéreuse Parfum

Apparently I was on a tuberose kick when I raided my scent stash last week for things to try, because the next thing I grabbed was Caron Tubéreuse parfum. I actually have quite a few of the Caron scents since I grabbed the house sampler last year from Luckyscent, but I haven't really reviewed many of them, have I? Today seems like a good day to rectify that.

Or....not.

Caron describes Tubéreuse as follows:
Caron's latest "fountain" creation, TUBEREUSE was conceived of in 2003 by in-house perfumer Richard FRAYSSE.

A hint of Fressia [sic] and jasmine accentuated by a touch of acidity lend Tubéreuse a rich and opulent fragrance, aimed in particular at CARON's glamour-seeking clientele.

Accords: Tuberose….
A little moldy open grave smell....
Caron Tubéreuse has it fans. Noses in the know have used words such as “bombshell,” “audaciously beautiful rich,” and “a hidden gem” to refer to the scent. Sadly reader, I am not going to be one of them. Nope. For when I put it on my skin, all I could think was: Oh Caron... Why did you do this to a tuberose?

The opening was a mix of vinegar and black tar, that fell straight down into an open grave filled with grape Kool-Aid and the bloated corpses of a hundred earth worms that overdosed from the flavored drink sugar high. Then even the interesting “Death comes a'knocking” aspects drifted off, leaving me with a powdery, dry scratch and sniff version of a white flower.

When it was weird, I was sort of distracted, disoriented, and even intrigued. Could I possibly wear this? Who would wear this? Did the perfumer take their inspiration from a terrible nineteenth century pickle factory fire where women and children were trapped in a terrific blaze that ultimately lead to some sort of Safer Work Conditions for Picklers Labor Reform Act?

But the dry powdery scent it settled into is somehow worse for the comparison. And for something I might describe as quiet and unassuming, good golly Miss Molly, the sillage! I had it on the back of my hands and felt like I had giant boxing gloves of scent around them, like sci-fi created orbs. I would be able to use this combat enhancement to knock people down without actually touching them for days!

While I am loathed to ever give such a bad review, I just have to. You know why, dear reader?

This was a scrubber.

...a little faux grape
 flavoring...
Yeah, I'm not kidding. I couldn't take it! After an hour, which I had to force myself through, I had to get it off my skin, even if steel wool was required. And I felt kind of terrible about it, because lots of people with noses I really respect like Caron Tubéreuse.

I was somewhat comforted to find I am not alone in having Caron Tubéreuse go sideways on me. Abigail at I Smell Therefore I Am described her experience as smelling “like dill pickles.” Chantal-Hélène Wagner of The Scented Salamander more charitably describes it as taking "the dark side of Lady Caron's tuberose and plays Lady Macbeth to the first, minus the signs of madness as it seems on the contrary to have an exceptional measure of self-control.” Of course, she goes on to describe it as being “slightly putrid, like stale water and vase.”

Lady MacBeth, indeed. I really enjoy Lady Caron, so I'll try to get a review on that one in for comparison soon. For me, though, I have to say that if you're out to shop tuberoses, be careful with this one. Maybe you're get an overly devoted wife; maybe you'll get a crazy lady who can't stop seeing blood on her hands.

Luckyscent has Caron Tubéreuse for 7.5ml for $100. Yep, you read that right. One hundred smackers for a mere 7.5 milliliters. Given the above, I can only endorse you trying a sample, which is $5. Perhaps you will love it. If not, better to find that out with the very small dab of a wand.

“Muscle to muscle and toe to toe
The fear has gripped me but here I go
My heart sinks as I jump up
Your hand grips hand as my eyes shut...
Please don't go, I'll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so, I love you so.”

~ “Breezeblocks,” Alt-J

Want a more positive spin on Caron Tubéreuse than I am able to muster? Try...
~ A review from Pink Manhattan
~ A review from Bois de Jasmin
~ A review from aperfumeblog
~ A review from The Black Narcissus
~ A review from Robin at Now Smell This!
~ A review from Eiderdown Press


Photo of open grave: Some rights reserved by A QUIVERFUL OF FOTOS
Photo of grape soda: Some rights reserved by D Sharon Pruitt of Pink Sherbet Photography

6 comments:

Martha said...

Hee. Funny.

You might have expected that my response to "vinegar and black tar" was "Ooh!" Even the open grave, OK, maybe. Powdery white floral? Feh.

If it weren't for that price, I'd still send off for a sample, but what if I do love it? Meep.

Mals86 said...

"Giant boxing gloves of scent"!! Love that image.

Despite my deep explorations of tuberose fragrances (haven't done any in awhile, but I think I'm up to 16 tuberose-centric perfume reviews as of now), I haven't tried this one. I don't generally do that well with Carons, to be honest - I liked Aimez-Moi, but I wasn't wearing it, so I sold it on to a friend, and I do still love Parfum Sacre.

In the Hunt For Tuberose, I came across the piece of information that jasmine and tuberose and sometimes orange blossom naturally produce an aroma/flavor chemical that is isolated for use by the flavoring industry to heighten grape flavor. So this artificial grape candy thing that pops up from time to time in white florals is actually, unbelievably, natural. Freaky, huh?

Maybe not as freaky as the open grave aspect, but weird.

DWR said...

Martha,

Yep, even if I loved it that would still be too rich for my blood. I didn't know the price when I tried it, but I am really relieved that it didn't work for me.

Diana

DWR said...

Mals,

You know, I went through all your tuberose reviews looking for this one when I was reviewing it because I was curious about your take. And the grape thing *is* plenty weird in its own right.

The Carons are hit and miss for me, too. I'm excited to work my way through the line, though.

Diana

bradamante said...

My dear, scrubber as it may be, it sure led to some exquisitely funny writing (actually it kind of reminds me how I experience tuberose in general. I Really Do. Not. Like. It.)

DWR said...

Bradamante-

Thanks! I like to believe at least my pain can be used as a tool to assist others. Tuberose is definitely one of those notes that people either like or tend not to. Rarely does love grow where dread once bloomed.

Thanks for reading!

Diana