Quelques Fleurs l'Original
Houbigant (1912)

This is a gorgeous floral perfume. For those who love florals it is a classic timeless scent.

“Created by Bienamie in 1912 in Grasse, France, still produced at the same laboratories where fragrance house founder Jean-François Houbigant had composed discerning perfumes for his royal, aristocratic clients from 1775.” - Houbigant website

1912 was the same year L’heure Bleue was created by Guerlain. What an amazing year for great parfums.

Houbigant also states:

An eau de parfum that curates upwards of 15,000 exemplary flowers and 250 prestigious raw materials in the creation of a single ounce.

Fragrance story: Ethereal and courtly, this mosaic fragrance depicts plush, ambrosial, delicate floral breath as it’s mingled in nature. The enchanting, radiant essence bombards the olfactory senses with soft, sensual, voluptuous flowers arranged in immaculately nuanced, concordant tonalities. Sensual and charming, its heart speaks of pure emotion, underpinned by jasmine, tuberose, lily of the valley, rose, ylang-ylang, carnation, broom flower, orange blossom and clove. Its vivacious, alluring head of bergamot, galbanum, tarragon and lemon dries down to a cultivated based of oakmoss, sandalwood, civet, cedarwood, musk, orris and tonka bean.

It does list evernia in the ingredients. As to how Diana wore this perfume in 1981 for her wedding…I choose to believe there was a vintage bottle of the perfume in the family. It is a perfect wedding scent. It could be what led the company to bring it back. Anyway, I enjoy it. Love the green opening, floral heart and gorgeous dry-down.

I just want to preface by saying that I am aware that this version, released in the 80s, is not in fact the actual, original version and had been reformulatied from the original Bienaimé composition.

The abundant bouquet that is Quelques Fleurs was long regarded by me as far out of my scope: prohibitively feminine, perfume with a capital P. Regardless of its history and fame, I resisted spending even a second with it. Over time, however, I felt a sense of neglect. This classic: I must reckon with it, even if for reference. Now is the time. I find a L'Original EDP version from what I believe is the 80s or maybe early 90s and I hold my breath, depress the nozzle, then give Quelques Fleurs an inaugural sniff.

Pleasantly surprised, I am struck by how thoroughly floral it is. Strata of flowers bursting out of the greenery, rose damascones dancing with violet ionones, a vernal brandish of lilac and lily of the valley, plump white florals. They descend on a bed of powder, moss, and musk. It feels decidedly a proper, formal scent, with just a glimmer of glamour. There is a dissociative sensation when wearing it, as if I am not the wearer but rather the observer, as it does its own thing while I am merely its vehicle. It isn't "me," yet I still want it on me. How curious!

Houbigant’s Quelque Fleurs, which first appeared in 1912, is certainly a perfume of mythic proportions. Jean-François Houbigant established his shop for perfumes, gloves, fans, and other elegant sundries in the Paris of 1775. By 1807, Houbigant was supplying Empress Josephine with a distinctive perfume, one that presumably complemented the intoxicating personal scent that led Napoleon to write: “I’ll be home in three days. Don’t wash.” (A myth, apparently, since no historian has produced this letter.) Appointments to the royal courts of France, England, and Russia followed. As the twentieth century dawned, Paul Parquet (1856–1916), a co-owner of the Houbigant company, led the way to the future of modern perfumery by synthesizing and using an artificial material, coumarin, in a perfume composition for the first time, in Fougere Royale (1882). By 1912, another Houbigant chemist-perfumer, Robert Bienaimé, developed Quelque Fleurs, celebrated as the first mixed floral perfume. Quelque Fleurs was a decisive break with the naturalism of the soliflores common at the time. To ladies asking for a rose or a violet perfume, Houbigant offered an unabashed perfume construct, “Some Flowers,” or to restate this in our current parlance, “Flowers. Whatever.” The perfume was an immediate sensation, and Quelque Fleurs continued to be sold in this form up until the 1970”s.

In 1985, Quelque Fleurs was reissued in a completely new formulation as Quelque Fleurs L’Original. (More myth-making here: when “L’Original” is tacked on to the name of old perfume, it is a good sign that the perfume is now completely different.) Thirty years later, Quelque Fleurs L’Original now has the luster of a vintage perfume, and a foundational royal myth of its own: it is frequently claimed that Princess Diana wore this perfume at her 1981 wedding, although no one has been able to explain how she obtained a bottle of Quelque Fleurs L’Original years before its launch.

Of course, as soon as I learned about Quelque Fleurs, I began searching for a older, vintage bottle, one that could somehow connect me to the mythic qualities of Quelque Fleurs. And by communing with my 1950’s bottle of Quelque Fleurs EDT, I believe I have connected to this perfume’s history and beauty, although I know my vintage EDT probably doesn’t smell exactly like Bienaimé’s 1912 composition. Does Quelque Fleurs L’Original also sustain the myth? I tested the L’Original EDP some time ago and found it to be a pleasant, but unexciting floral aldehyde.

Vintage Quelque Fleurs EDT is a floral bouquet set in a basket lined with damp, bitter oakmoss. Its scent is fresh, with an astringent green lily of the valley note, and rich notes of rose, jasmine, lilac, hyacinth, and more, but picking out individual floral notes in vintage Quelque Fleurs is somewhat besides the point. Vintage aldehydes and orris add some waxy powderiness. As Quelque Fleurs dries down, it becomes warmer, fruitier, and more rounded, and one perceives that it contains a surprising amount of provocative civet tempered with peach lactone, vanilla, and sandalwood. Vintage Quelque Fleurs always reminds of vintage Mitsouko (1919) at this stage.

So, no, Quelque Fleurs L’Original is not the same as the original, but I can’t say with certainty that my 1950’s EDT comes closer, since I really have no way to know this is true.

Houbigant Quelques Fleurs (1912) is described as a landmark in perfumery, the first aldehydic multifloral perfume that created a category within the nascent chypre genre followed by other icons like Chanel No. 5 (1921), Lanvin Arpège (1927), Joy Jean Patou (1930) and many more. Quelques Fleurs, now called "L'Original" to separate it from its modern flankers, is still quite a timeless perfume as well, although I admit it does not have the same universal appeal as the pillars of the category it inspired. The main reason for this is perfumer Robert Bienaimé, who had taken over for Paul Parquet at the time, was intent to focus the scent more on the blending of flowers themselves rather than the whole of the composition like the later perfumes it inspired, meaning the aldehydes are purely a means to convey, and the base merely a method of establishing permanence on skin. Quelques Fleurs is about the flowers, and only about the flowers. In fact, Houbigant claims 15,000 different flower essences and 25 different other materials create the accord, which is an absurd set of flowers if actually true (probably not), so they want you to know before even smelling that this meant to be floral ambrosia for the nose. Considering how Houbigant was still very much a luxury/prestige house like Guerlain in the early 20th century, Quelques Fleurs didn't see the widespread use that the debut Chanel perfume had, so part of the enjoyment of wearing it in modern times will likely be the "missing link" experience of smelling what came after simple colognes, lavenders, rose waters, or heliotrope-centic early perfumes like Guerlain Après L'Ondée (1906) and what we now understand to be aldehydic floral chypres.

The opening of Quelques Fleurs is sure enough comprised of aldehydes, which still have the potential to take the breath away like in a classic Chanel perfume, but fade into the background as the bergamot, lemon, galbanum, and tarragon take over. These notes are also but a subtle layer that peels back, letting the gorgeous floral heart emerge full of sweet mellifluous complexity. There are indeed too many floral notes to really separate during most of the wear, but tuberose, lily of the valley, jasmine, orange blossom, violet, and carnation make themselves most known until a slightly soapy but also indolic beeswax orris facet emerges, balancing sultry and clean. By the time the blended chypre base warms up, a prominent jammy rose note shows head and shoulders above the floral din, transforming Quelques Fleurs in the latest stages into a complex sweet rose chypre with sandalwood, oakmoss, nitromusks, and a smidge of honeyed civet growl. Ever so slightly powdery in the final moments on skin, Quelques Fleurs fades to black with the smooth honeyed animalic, orange blossom soap, sweet rose jam, and oakmoss chypre bite. Wear time is all day and sillage is considerable, so like many of the other old "great dames", you might want to be careful with application. Quelques Fleurs is also a perfume out of time, so my recommendation is to wear it whenever, wherever, since it will stand out regardless. This is quite a grand perfume so I'd say suits best for a grand occasion, and while most of these older chypres end up unisex to modern niche perfume noses, this one is "girly" enough with the sweetness and airy texture that it would likely only appeal to men of the most dandy of natures.

Houbigant has revived Quelques Fleurs along with Fougère Royale (1882) since the house's relaunch into the world of luxury niche perfume as part of its marquee male/female duo, with a cadre of modern compositions to surround them both. There is a lot of contention among male fragrance connoisseurs about the authenticity of the relaunched Fougère Royale because Rodrigo Flores-Roux and Roja Dove were both assigned to rework the composition as accurately as possible with available materials, but no such proclamation was made about Quelques Fleurs upon its reintroduction. This means there's a lot less talk in general about whether the new one is comparable to vintage, and I can say outside some tweaks in the musk profile (no more nitromusks and civetone replacing civet), low-atranol "oakmoss absolute" being smoother, and a flatter polysantal replacing real sandalwood oil, there is little else to worry about. Compared to vintage, the modern formula does come across a bit soapier since the orris and orange blossom are not as well balanced against synthetic civet and a loss of sharpness in the base thanks to some IFRA strangulation, but it survives about as well as any vintage Guerlain. In short, modern Quelques Fleurs still more than gets "the point across", and still smells like the grandmother of aldehyde florals that it is, but just finishes a little neater, tidier, and brighter. Regardless of which iteration you get to try, this is still a resplendent experience worth having for fans of traditional perfumery, if not owning. Thumbs up.

From a current EDP sample: Starts off with a shot of hairspray aldehydes and indistinct fruit over white florals and a ton of powdery soap. Given a few minutes, a complicated mix of soapy musks take over and the whole thing smells like laundry detergent, specifically Tide powdered soap, the original scent in the orange box. It's very clever - somehow it clearly smells dry and powdered, but simultaneously warm and moist like a laundry room.

This style of laundry/fabric softener perfume smells very modern - it's really only the onslaught of powder that keeps this from smelling like a current release. As such, I'm conflicted. Is this a thumbs up for being a classic masterpiece, or a thumbs down for smelling like a Febreeze candle?

The answer may lie in the vintage version. Thanks to a generous BNer, I've also tried the vintage parfum, which is still extremely soapy powder, but without the laundry association (it's probably nitro musks - ouch! My liver!) and with more of a spotlight on the retro aldehydic fruits at the top.

So I guess that's it. I'd recommend the current EDP if you just want to smell extremely clean in a vaguely classy sort of way, but not if you're looking for a timeless contemporary of masterpieces of Joy or Chanel No 5. Meanwhile, the vintage parfum is an improvement if you're an eBay expert.

Today I am wearing Quelques Fleurs (pure perfume), after (for some reason) having waited over 30 years to try it. Long before I was born, this was my Mum's favourite perfume, along with Caron's Fleurs de Rocaille (which she has always maintained are very similar; though now I've tried both, I really can't agree); she now wears heavy florals like Joy, 1000, Chanel No22 and Muguet du Bonheur.

Quelques Fleurs reminds me very much of Max Factor's Le Jardin and Un Amour De Patou, though it is richer and powdery (which the other two aren't). If I smelled all three perfumes at the same time, I'm sure Queleques Fleurs would be a far more distinguished fragrance altogether, but on my skin they are very much along the same lines.

A very beautiful perfume, Quelques Fleurs is perfect for warm weather - I could it imagine it being a little bleak in winter.