I think I understand now why certain perfume blog readers (and writers!) get so bent out of shape when you review a discontinued classic. It's unfair, they say, to get a person all fired up about a fragrance and then leave them out in the cold. Why torment us with lush descriptions of what we can't have? they complain. If we can't go right out and buy it, why review it at all?
Maybe they're right. I always thought it was my prerogative to review whatever the hell I wanted, and damn your rules. But wearing Jules, I can see now how frustrating it might be. Because Jules has vanished from these parts-- relegated to some bucket list of shy and elusive species, like the dwarf cassowary or the ghost orchid. And its comeliness makes its flight from the shelves of non-Parisian stockists that much more intolerable.
In the wunderkammer of perfume specimens, Jules joins Eau Sauvage, Caron Yatagan, and Pascal Morabito Black in a little drawer helpfully labeled "Fougères - Animalic (Sharp/Filthy)". This would differentiate it from those comforting barbershop fougères which are more tonka-heavy, or the zesty sort of fougère which relies mainly on aromatic herbs and pale blue or green coloring to suggest "freshness". The fragrances in this drawer are all sex and leather-- and Jules, with its sage-and-cumin suggestiveness, is the rarest of them all. And also the most beautiful.
The teaser has become the teased. Serves me right.
Scent Elements: Bergamot, basil, artemisia, lavender, sage, cumin, cyclamen, jasmine, rose, cedar, sandalwood, amber, tonka bean, oakmoss, leather, castoreum, musk