Rive Gauche
Yves Saint Laurent (1971)

Review of an early 1980s Charles of the Ritz EdT

So says Stephen King having requoted Jonathan Swift, “sooner or later, everything old is new again.” I would like for that to be true of Rive Gauche. What’s “in” and/or “fashionable” is almost always a repeat of something that came before. Rive Gauche was supposed to be a perfume of a sci-fi future (it wouldn’t), completely reinventing how we think of the aldehydic floral chypre (it didn’t), and be unlike anything we had before (it wasn’t). But it got pretty darn close though! Today it would likely smell way too retro for most, but, at some point, “everything old is new again”. This futuristic perfume of the past needs a social media manager so that it can “reinvent itself” back into relevance.

What makes Rive Gauche stand out from its predecessor aldehydic florals is the overdose of aldehydes presenting like ice shards, and virtually no sweetness to the fruit or floral notes. This was quite unique for the day, but hardly groundbreaking. At a time when aldehydic florals were typically hazy, abstract, powdery French chic affairs that smelled of old chateaux with well manicured gardens, RG wanted to smell of skyscrapers and glass, of flowers grown in a laboratory. The green peaches in the opening, covered in those icy aldehydes, give an immediate feeling of youthful, modern energy. Chanel No. 5, this was not going to be. Even in the floral heart there is a verdancy to the rose and jasmine that smells hurried and immature - but, in today’s perfumes that would mean sweet. Not RG. The florals are vividly saturated and devoid of any nectars and pollens. Orris and muguet act as street lights, shining a bit of a white and yellow glow into the cool, glassy, and icy night. Swells of oakmoss and musks work their way up and down the perfume before ceding to sandalwood, presenting a contrast of skyscrapers and flora.

I have a soft spot, a big one, for Rive Gauche even though there is nothing soft about the perfume at all. It is hard, bifurcated, piercing, abrasive, vivid and saturated. It’s a lot of things that are negative and difficult, but the sum is greater than the parts and the sum at the bottom line says masterpiece.

It's been decades since I've sniffed Rive Gauche but the formula inside the bottle I bought last week is as beautiful and strange as I remember it—probably the coldest, most angular, most sci-fi rose-based floral ever created. At the same time, though, not at all off-putting or difficult to wear, in spite of not smelling in any way warm, snuggly, sexy, scintillating, juicy, or good-natured. Instead, it's more like a piece of abstract sculpture that catches your eye but puzzles your brain, initially incomprehensible, but once you get it home you realize it's the exact thing needed to make your space come alive.

Rive Gauche would undoubtedly be deemed dowdy to today's Kayali crew, though I am certain few of them would even have the word "dowdy" in their vocabulary: they would just say "eww." Yet this magnificent monolith born out of the age of Helen Reddy anthems and "You've Come A Long Way, Baby" is an article of what was futuristic chic in its time. It strikes from the outset like a brain freeze from an icy peach sorbet, with spiky aldehydes, a metallic galbanum and tight citrus soon follows, almost as if this is something HAL's cyborg girlfriend would wear. Nothing here is round and soft, and that is NO complaint from me. Quite the contrary, I pine for the days when this was the aroma of the zeitgeist.

It does mellow somewhat in the mist of chilled oxide rose and friable iris, with the peripheral warmth of ylang and gardenia that keeps one from going hypothermic. Bitter, clean, powdery, sharp: love, love, love, love. The evernyl haze eclipses the florals, rendering it all even more abstract. Darker elements begin to creep in, including a deep, intoxicating sandalwood, particularly in this vintage I own. Yes, how hazardous to risk an old bottle of this baby, pressurized atomizer and all. The first time I sprayed it, I panicked as the atomizer remained in the depressed position and I was gassed by ecstasy! Luckily, I was able to yank it back up and all subsequent sprays have been just fine. I don't know if it's the metal canister, but what came out smells unbruised—immaculate. One last thing: Rive Gauche is all about the sillage. The end.

I had Rive Gauche in the 70s. It was in a metal can, so you couldn't really tell how much was left. Along with Lauren by Ralph Lauren, Rive Gauche was one of the few perfumes that I used all of and was so sad to see it empty. I remember it as clean and fresh, cool and smooth in a sort of cool, powdery way. A very good scent which I loved. This was probably my favorite perfume, and I've bought many. I may buy it again now.

I recently bought Yves Saint Laurent's Libre Le Parfum, which smelled good in the store but seems too sickeningly sweet for me after wearing it just twice- it's like a sweet food scent. So disappointing. I wish I had bought Rive Gauche instead. I would have if it had been in the store or they could have ordered it for me.

This is a straight-up copy of Worth Je Reviens. It was quite clever of YSL to repackage an old classic in a (quite lovely) spray can and sell it to young, trendy, baby-boomer Cosmo Girl types. A triumph of marketing over substance. I adore Je Reviens so naturally I quite like this. This review is for the original formulation of Rive Gauche.

I only only vaguely remembered this in its original form as a strongly green galbanum chypre with that aggressive Now Woman feel (now being the 70s and early 80s).

This review is for the current formulation, as I was curious to revisit what it might be now. What I get is green soapy metallic rose with that leathery galbanum and bergamot oil. The bergamot makes it smell like a unisex traditional European cologne, the leathery aspects make it classic old style chypre and there are tarry notes in the aldehydes that remind me powerfully of Arpege.

It really does still remind me of the 80s, and it feels very unisex by today's standards. Depth is clearly missing from what I recall of the old version, but the dark green rose chypre is still there in all it's layered complexity. If you like the current version, definitely seek out the vintage for depth and punch.

It's an eh for me personally, but a thumbs up in fragrances.