Baghari
Robert Piguet (1950)

Aldehyde lovers please come forward and pay attention: this is ultra-aldehydic. Frosty, tickle-your-nose, rays-of invigoratingly-piercing-light aldehydes are what we have here in Baghari, a presumably faithful reconstruction of the original by Guichard (I have not experienced the rare vintage original). This isn't too similar to say, No. 5 or Arpège, however: the aldehydes are orange-hued, citrus-zesty, even waxy.

It simmers down to powdery rose petals and an orange-creamsicle vanillic amber. After all soapiness and fizziness dissipates, what is left is this warm aura, bridging bitter with sweet. It has a restrained elegance, a topaz translucency, with violet shadows, in like a lion and out like a lamb, no longer baring its teeth. It's a sunset kind of smell, a little haunting, as if summoning grand ghosts of the past. 

Basically, a beautiful amber with Chanel No 5 aldehydes on top. It's a great combination - warm, smooth, and just sweet enough to be comfortable, but also bright, complex and expensive-smelling.

I think it's more than a No 5 clone. Though it very much incorporates the top 1/3 of No 5, pairing its lemony champagne aldehydes, in all their powdery jasmine glory, with a traditional amber is a stroke of genius that Chanel itself hasn't pulled off, the perfect marriage of an aldehydic floral with a traditional "oriental".

Thumbs way up. Fans of Chanel's Exclusifs, in particular, need to try this.

The whoosh of aldehydes & bergamot in the opening give this a very old-fashioned, retro, almost "turned" feel. After ten minutes though, this impression gives way to the scent of dried orange peel that ClaireV mentions in her review. There are flowers here, but deep in the mix & not readily identifiable to me, obscured as they are by the orangey, ambery tone of the heart. I would say that iris is probably the only floral I can smell for sure here. Over the first hour, it becomes faintly powdery, reminding me of other powdery orientals like Stoned or Fleur Oriental. Three hours in, the florals have faded, leaving a musky, ambery base which resolves itself into the skin-like, intimate scents of costus & castoreum. The initially powerful projection has become correspondingly intimate too, although it continues quietly for over twelve hours.
I'm not fond of the opening, but I found the drydown of this one rather enjoyable, & I think it works well as a warming & enveloping scent for autumn/winter.

This review is for the current EDP. Piguet is one of my favorite houses, and none of its fragrances thus far have actually disappointed me; Baghari, though, while it is a pleasant and perfectly respectable floral, does not single itself out as a fragrance I'd want to wear often. It is almost a generic concoction, albeit well done.

Vintage Baghari had an interesting edge to it that the current formula lacks, which of course should come as no surprise in this highly regulated era; I don't expect miracles. Still, this EDP leaves me flat.

This smells like aldehydes and jasmine, so it is somewhat similar to Chanel No. 5, but easy enough to tell apart. Baghari takes the aldehyde effect even further, like a viola or a flute being played more loudly, but equally well.

There's a fruit note setting this apart. It's fairly well buried under the powdery floral smell, but it's the note to smell for to know it's a Piguet and not a Chanel. From ClaireV's review below, this fruit note is reportedly orange peel, and I could agree with that, although it's quite subtle, and creamy; not sharp like a typical orange zest. As for a man pulling it off, I smell no problem, especially one who likes aldehydic, sweet, powdery florals.

Baghari is slightly alarming in the initial few seconds, but quickly becomes convincingly delicious.

I was ready to dismiss Baghari as a Chanel No. 5 clone, when a side by side comparison over the course of about five hours revealed, yes, a definite variation on that theme, but one with a compelling character all its own.

They certainly start off similarly, but after about 60 minutes, when No. 5 begins its slow slide into its slightly fusty, powdery jasmine and rose dry down, Baghari maintains an assertive citrus-and-spice brightness.

I adore No. 5, and have worn it on and off since I was a teenager, but Baghari, while still exhibiting the hallmarks of a grand dame of 40s/50s perfumery, seems much sunnier and way more wearable.

No. 5 purrs, but Baghari sings.