Diorella
Eau de Toilette, Christian Dior (1972)

(Review of an early 80s EdT)

If it’s possible to ascribe a magnum opus to Edmond Roudnitska’s name, it’s probably Diorella. If perfect is possible: Diorella. We have Roudnitska to thank for the use of synthetics to create the watery-melony fruit note at the top of Diorella that blew people’s minds - though I’m not sure “thanks” is exactly what Roudnitska would feel is deserved if he knew how perfumers and houses were handling calone today. The rest of the perfume is an impeccably - perfectly - balanced floral chypre.

The perfume sparkles away in the opening with glimmering aldehydes and green and yellow hesperidics providing the watery melon and peach notes with a shimmer like sunlight bouncing off of sliced fruit. It shifts very seamlessly to the fruity facets of the floral heart, carrying an insalubrious and salty quality that tantalizes the nose into blind voracity. Perfection. The citrusy jasmine, the orange-flower-honey of honeysuckle, green roses, and a gentle swell of damp woody oakmoss (just to make sure the watery calone from the top has a natural link to help stuffy 1970s noses find familiarity). I could smell this heart section nonstop for days, weeks, months on end and never tire of it. But I guess it’s not perfect because it eventually leaves me, yearning, but yet presents a silky smooth woody base that is nearly equally divine. A creamy and slightly spicy sandalwood accented with a clove type note, gently green and aromatic vetiver, and a fine beige patchouli give me the chills. A perfect dry down that is hopelessly addictive.

Edmond Roudnitska was a workhorse and a visionary. Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration, as the saying goes, but how true that is to Roudnitska is debatable. The man certainly seemed to be inspired by more than a percent, but he played with this structure for decades on end - constantly tweaking and evolving it. Perspiring workhorse indeed. This is unheard of today, and would be unthinkable to the vast majority of perfumers and houses. But it paid off. He’s a legend, one of the all time greats that will always remain so. Diorella is a legend, one of the all time greats that will always remain so.

Diorella by Christian Dior (1972) is a masterpiece, which is a statement when made will need some heavy justification; here is that justification. Forward-thinking perfumer Edmond Rouditska had made a career of delivering some of the most-prolific and advanced perfumes anyone had seen up until that point, whether for Elizabeth Arden, Marcel Rochas, or Christian Dior. Most of his fame came from his Dior fragrances, due to the profile of Christian Dior himself in the fashion circles of the time, which filtered down into mainstream culture. Of the six recorded Dior perfumes he created, Diorella is among one of the most-loved, as it surreptitiously introduced in very minute quantities synthetic materials that imparted the smell of ripe peaches and melons, creating a truly innovative fruity-floral chypre; although it was technically Mk. II of a design Mr. Roudnitska had been tinkering with since the 1950's, as he had devised an even more-futuristic fruity floral fragrance nicknamed "the plum" by socialites who smelled it on his wife, Thérèse. Most of us who follow Roudnistka's work know that particular fragrance was passed on by Dior twice in two different configurations, and then passed on by Guy Laroche when Roudnistka submitted it in response to the brief for Fidji by Guy Laroche (1966), only being released after his death upon permission from his wife as Le Parfum de Thérèse by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle (2000). Ultimately that perfume would be a lasting testament to Roudnitska's creativity, it just remains out of reach for most due to the exclusivity and pricing of the Malle brand.

Diorella on the other hand is much more conventional in its chypre structure compared to Le Parfum de Thérèse, much less ostentatiously fruity or transparent, much less conceptual, but at very least was commonly available on a commercial front for at least a few decades. Instead of full aqueous-fruit, Roudnitska works his penchant for ripe fleshy fruits via a backdrop of then-fashionable aromatic chypre, utilizing bergamot and lemon, green materials like basil and galbanum, plus a sharp base of oakmoss and patchouli. Just the right amount of futurism snuck into the structure rife with carnation, cyclamen, and vetiver helped the jasmine hedione, calone-1951, and civet-lactone interplay of ripe peaches, soft melon, and honeysuckle skirt right on by without ruffling the feathers of French perfumery traditionalists, giving people just enough of a peek into the future to make them marvel instead of shrivel back in estrangement. The impact this vividly fresh yet still familiar perfume had on the market is immeasurable, and everything from Chanel Cristalle (1974) to Quartz by Molyneaux (1977) were directly the result of Diorella's impact. Over 50 years later, something like this smells so universal in appeal that it doesn't really register as feminine anymore. Lovers of fresh green smells laced with salty ripe fruits will certainly appreciate Diorella, although some may argue current reformulations to it may not have been kind to Diorella. I'll let you hash that out for yourself if you so choose, and will just talk about what I smell in this formula specifically.

The more-recent Creations de Monsieur Dior bottles seem to be available, and were reworked by François Demachy just before his appointment as house perfumer by Dior (a first for the brand) in 2011. I haven't sampled anything other than what I have been sent in vintage form, including Diorella Extrait, which is reviewed separately due to significant differences. Diorella is a visionary perfume, by a visionary perfumer who's work would end up defining the state of the art for decades after its release. Something like this cannot be understated, and to think he had already been working on the accords found here for about 20 years before they turned up in Diorella, then would continue working on them in retirement until they ended up in Ocean Rain by 1990 is nuts; that's literally almost 40 years of continuous refinement on a single accord or family of accords. In any case, this perfume was just the right peek into the future people needed to keep flocking in to Dior counters, and arguably the designer would never be this futuristic again, although they would definitely be more controversial with things like Dior Poison (1985), Dior Fahrenheit (1988), and Dior Dune (1992). If you can't bedazzle, you can always enrage I guess, and that might explain Dior Sauvage (2015) to a degree as well. Thumbs up

Roudnitska ripeness is in full effect in his classic Diorella, where the melon is at the precipice of swollen and soft, the peach has zero give when bitten into and so juicy it makes a mess all over you. Limes have been squeezed over salty flesh, and flower petals are in creases and folds, sweaty and plump, just before they recede and bear fruit.

Musky carnation and salacious spice steer Diorella from its fruity citrus opening to a heavenly woody, oily dry down hinting at indecency but still behaving. Its restraint from full on lechery is its brilliance. Are we clean or are we dirty? We are human, we are both, day in and day out, always striving for the former when perhaps leaning into the latter can liberate us now and then.

“Dagmar knew there were worse things in this world than pretending to be a caring, demure woman. For instance, actually being a caring, demure woman.”
― G.A. Aiken, What a Dragon Should Know

Unisex? 100%

Fresh and lightly floral, citrus disappears too quickly for my liking, as the citrus is what is most appealing in Diorella.

On the shores of the Black Sea by Konstantin Alekseyevich Korovin

Classically lovely, the jasmine in this stands out more on me than anything else. I find it quite strong so I can only wear a light wisp of it.