Jardins de Bagatelle
Guerlain (1983)

Guerlain meets the 80s and I'm wallowing in it! As I write this, it's a far warmer than average April day here in New England, and I am just not ready for these kinds of temps. The birds outside are singing a chorus, though, heralding spring, and as I wear this I am transported to a garden, greeted by aldehydic fanfare, finding oceans of smiling narcissus, humid gardenia and brazen, indolic jasmine. They are all kept in check by a neroli and orange blossom all the way through to the heart.

Que volupté! You must appreciate the bold florals, the ones that lead you around a leash as you wear a studded collar. They show you who's boss! Hell, even the bees come for me wearing this, and since I am the insect whisperer, I let them investigate for a bit, and once they realize it's just a dirty human being, they move on. Who can blame them for being entranced by this though? Man, this is heady, I sprayed more than I needed to, but I am taking it all in, as dizzying as it might feel—and to think this is the eau de toilette.

This is the most wonderful and penetrating floral bash I've experienced in a fragrance; a culmination of all I love about yellow and white florals, with just a wee bit of sweet Viola odorata for good measure. Jean-Paul Guerlain took a detour from the Guerlainade and let this baby simmer in a heap of vetiver and cedar shavings, all sealed with honeyed musk. Jardins de Bagatelle is like a nectar of the gods.

I've been sampling the vintage 80's version. It's quite beautiful, kicking off with a big, sugary raspberry rose, sparkling with fresh citrus. I was temporarily worried that this may be a vapid fruity floral, albeit a nice one, but that threat goes away quickly as the raspberry melts into a really complex mix of flowers - the richness of tuberose plays against the brightness of violets and the spice of carnation, while a bit of soap adds depth and the rose expands into a dewy floral openness that surrounds everything. Yes, this is a big, 80's white floral, but it's really well done.

Given time, the violets fade to suede and iris comes in underneath, creating a lush, leathery pillow for the flowers. Later, subtle spiced vanilla joins in, creating a leathery vanilla that's the base as the florals fade out of focus.

I like a big 80's floral, and this is the best I've tried so far. Thumbs way up!

Big, huge creamy white floral. Like, 1980’s big. It’s great if you’re into that kind of thing. The ultimate wedding scent. It’s available for a song at discounters too.

I just bought Champs Lunaires this past summer so probably don’t need this too, but two thumbs up nonetheless.

It is no doubt a well made perfume, but really, really, really not my style and taste. It's a huge bouquet of white and yellow flowers and also a bucket filled to the brim with pollen. It really smells like you stuck a nose into a bouquet and kept it for an hour. Dizzying. I can see how many people would find it amazing, but it's a very difficult wear to me, I can feel my nose going stuffy almost instantly. Nevertheless it's an interesting perfume, very evocative of summer flower gardens blooming in the sun, pollen, bees and all. Thumbs down because it's a scrubber, a sneeze, a stuffy nose and a headache for me. But it still might be a beautiful classic for you.

Guerlain Jardins de Bagatelle (1983) is the prettiest and most "noble" of the big 1980's florals, narrowly avoiding the "terrible tuberose" moniker of something like Estée Lauder Beautiful (1985) by being a less-focused white floral, but not quite being a lascivious animalic patchouli rose exercise like things such as Ungaro Diva (1983). Jardins de Bagatelle rather sits closer to something like Yves Saint Laurent Paris (1983) of the same year, and is a big golden white floral combo, although a bit of scandal thanks to some civet does remain so Jardin lives up to its namesake of being a garden used for sexual romps after nightfall. My only bit of criticism upon first impression of this is how downright conventional it feels for a Guerlain perfume following the release of Nahéma (1979), with no easily detectable presence of "Guerlinade", but the artistic quality of the house (especially in the hands of Jean-Paul Guerlain) is very much there in contrast to the creeping synthetic commercialism that was starting to infect this level of the market.

The opening is a wall of aldehydes, lemon, bergamot, nondescript fruit, and violet. This violet helps keep the fruit dry enough not to be overbearing, and helps merge the top with a kitchen sink ensemble of white and golden floral notes. I could list them all, but the star players are going to be muguet, narcissus, iris, cassie and rose set against a musky mix of tuberose, ylang-ylang and jasmine, sweetened by neroli. There really are no other words besides "pretty" to describe this, and the mild indoles pull you down by the collar into that aforementioned civet, rounded by benzoin, given body by patchouli, and dried on a bed of cedar, oakmoss, and vetiver. A chypre is as a chypre does, so Jardins de Bagatelle wears moderately well in temperate conditions for a good length of time, being best in spring through fall for casual daytime or romantic use. I'd call this unisex myself, but the huge sweet floral melange will read feminine to the mainstream nose, although the typical Guerlain complexity keeps Jardins de Bagatelle from feeling boring or linear.

Jardins de Bagatelle is rather cut and dried as an 80's "powerhouse" perfume for women: it's loud when oversprayed, will overstay its welcome in public settings like restaurants, and brings the idea of triangle blouses and teased up hair back to the fore for those who lived that era. In the minds of those who don't have experience in that context, Jardins de Bagatelle will just smell like an exceptionally-loud traditional white floral perfume, rounded by some sweet fruit and musks in the top and bottom, smelling a bit out-of-time but with hints at playful youth despite being too big-boned to sprint along with today's watery fruity floral things which serve that same demographic today. A very un-Guerlain fragrance for Guerlain, and perhaps a sign of patina forming on the house before the family sold to LVMH. Still, there is nothing to fault here if well-blended and safe white floral chypres with a nice late-stage seductive musk profile sound like something you'd enjoy wearing. Thumbs up.

The opening is composed of some fresh citric aromas - mainly bergamot and a bit of lemon, as well as the floral dyad of violet and sweetness - violet adding a darker tone and the calyx a lovely honeysuckle-like sweetness to the top notes. Later on a soft neroli appears. Very nice.

The drydown sees a frontal attack by a whole army of floral notes: initially, a dyad of rose (The Jardins de Bagatelle's fame (in Paris) is partly based on its roses) and tuberose vying for attention; both are of medium brightness, with the rose being a bloom only - no green leaves here - and the tuberose being of the lighter and lacking any waxiness or indolic undertone. A light narcissus with a very bright and airy jasmine play a role too at that stage.

Later on a batallion of white florals - muguet, magnolia and a orchid - move into the foreground. Even further into the heart notes an ylang-ylang develops that adds a restrained and bright creaminess to the whole mix, with a gentle orris supplying an attempt to inject a touch of a darker and earthier tone into the mix - no mean feat given the white floral onslaught.

The complex multitude of floral notes - typical for many Guerlains of that era - it not a melange made up of notes that are always equally strong, but each of them moves into the foreground and back with time - like a symphony in which each instrument gets a chance to shine in the centre if the audience's attention.

The base begins a bit less floral - there is a woody side focusing and cedar without much of a true pencilshave component - and sone light musks with touches of civet - the latter rather a fleeting phenomenon. A soft, very soft (on me) patchouli together vetiver that lacks any earthiness lead further into the base, with a subdued benzoin adding a modicum of tanginess.

Towards the end, like and echo from the past, the florals re-emerge to dominate the finale again: the ylang-ylang, the muguet and the narcissus appear again - like a floral apparition fading out into the night.

I get moderate sillage, excellent projection a splendid twelve hours of longevity on my skin, with the last couple of hours very close to my skin.

This complex study of flowers is a beautiful scent for spring evenings. It is confident, with a natural, vivid but unobtrusive sweetness that never loses its balance thanks to the sublime blending of the ingredients, which are of superb quality, especially in the older samples. It is not powdery, classical, elegant and confident, but with a dynamic and youthful touch that is never stale. The performance is very good. Maybe the sheer mass of notes leads to some of them never truly excelling in their own right, like the rose for instance, but that might be the price to pay for being a member of such a large olfactory ensemble of high-quality fragrance notes. 3.75/5.