By its very nature, perfume conjures sensual collusion - between partners-in-crime drawn together despite themselves by its invisible, soundless siren call; between the scent and the skin that bears it; between the notes that conjoin to create a chimera. The downy bloom of an apricot cheek. The yielding softness of a white kid glove. The velvety warmth of a lover’s body. Skin to be nipped or stroked...
Once the aphrodisiac rush of ginger and rum burns through, Dangerous Complicity unveils this passionate pact between fruit, flower and flesh.
The apricot, tea and violet facets of the tiny osmanthus blossom morph into delicate suede. The coconut-white petals of jasmine betray a whiff of the Beast lurking within the Beauty. The tropical lushness of ylang-ylang conjures salty, sun-kissed skin. The smoky creaminess of sandalwood hints at secret musky places in the chocolate-dark undergrowth of patchouli.
This is the scent of skin on skin — or should that be sin on skin? — intimate and sexy, edgy but smooth as a swans-down powder puff. The scent of leather and powder, or rather: the softly scented trace a bad boy’s leather jacket would leave on the powdered skin of a femme fatale. The masculine yielding to the feminine in a fragrant folie à deux - or is it the other way round?
Rhum JE, gingembre JE, noix de coco JE, baie, calamus, absolu d'osmanthus, absolu de jasmin Egyptien, ylang-ylang, lorenox, patchouli, accord cuir, santal
Legend has it that an apple from a tree fell on Newton’s head – and thus, the theory of universal gravitation was born. But then let’s imagine a different scene – Newton, asleep under a rose bush. And instead of an apple, a flower falls, an enormous rose, a fully scented, fleshy rose. Would he have felt it? Would he have plunged his face into the heart of the flower? And what would this mean for his theory?
This scent: A chypre! And a very precise and clear-cut formula, like something that falls on you, sudden and direct. And never leaves you. A trail of scent that holds on. Akigalawood and patchouli for a honeyed rose.
Newton, excuse us! Your Crucial Experience showed us that colors are not characteristics of objects but properties of light. We now know, thanks to you, that white light is a mixture of rays with the nuances of the rainbow. You also showed us that just because an object IS red does not mean that we see it as red. If it appears red to our visual perception, this is because, when illuminated with a white light source (for example, sunlight), its surface absorbs all the colored light rays that compose it, EXCEPT the reds.
So forgive us for taking inspiration from your Experimentum Crucis! You have been the inspiration and the source of criticism for so many. And as your theory has changed our vision of the world, we have tried to create a fragrance that will change the world.
Lychee, Apple, Rose NeoAbsolute, Jasmin Absolute, Honey, Patchouli, Musks
Created in partnership with the award-winning creative network Ogilvy Paris, ‘I AM TRASH’ is the first luxury perfume created by Upcycling; by using the trashed ingredients to create something truly beautiful. More specifically, by using exhausted Rose petals, already distilled Sandalwood chips, and even leftover Apples from the food industry to create the most beautiful fruity, floral, and woody blend.
By virtue of my mother, I am the son of a forgotten coast, far away in New Caledonia. At the mouth of the Ngoye live the Borindi, who have known since the twilight of the gods the great principle of harmony with Mother Nature: to take from her no more than is necessary while preserving for tomorrow. They understand the future of mankind, and in the shade of the niaouli tree and jacarandas in bloom, they guide our first steps into this new direction for Etat Libre d’Orange.
In the early years of this new millennium, when my children were young and I was a hopeful thirty-year-old, I took them to see an animated film called Titan AE. I learned by heart the introduction, which went something like this:
“Once in a while, man unlocks a secret so profound that it can change the universe: fire, electricity, atom splitting. At the dawn of the 21st century, we invented the Titan program . . . ”
There is a jumble of romantic and titanic science fiction poetry that emerges from the slow, sure, and inevitable rocking of wastewaters in the industrial cycle. We want to make this perfume a messenger, in service not only to the survival of the species which results from seduction, but above all in service to the planet where our own miasmas must reflect beauty.
We believe that a new post-religious “jihad” is approaching, coming from an often disillusioned and polluting West, and echoing a new animistic era. Those who have committed crimes against the environment are repenting, and democracies are acknowledging nature as the sacred focal point, meant to be shared. The beliefs of the primitive and ancient tribes are back, and demand our full allegiance. This perfume will carry a universal message: that which is dirty must reflect the beautiful,
“…and wash me clean of the bluish wine stains and the splashes of vomit,
Carrying away both rudder and anchor.” (Arthur Rimbaud, The Drunken Boat.)
Les Fleurs du Déchet represents a passage to the adulthood of Sécrétions Magnifiques. It is a counter-revolution for Etat Libre d’Orange, still noisy and disruptive, but ultimately functional.
Givaudan, Ogilvy and Etat Libre d’Orange have created a three-fold company in the service of Mother Nature, to offer her a bouquet of forgiveness and let everyone know – loudly and quickly – that soon it will be too late.
Dear world: Do not throw anything away because at the bottom of our trash lies the fermented distillation of great love. The garbage trucks hold flowers that can still bleed, the peels and rinds that can still give. The noxious exhalations have honey notes that can merge with the earth. And there are so many floating concretions, the trash that is thrown into the sea, and the natural waste, the ambergris, mystical symbols, the attitudes of primitive tribes – these must now be reprocessed.
To paraphrase and distort Alan Paton: Cry, my beloved planet, for the unborn child; let him not love the earth too deeply, for it is slipping away.
So before it’s too late, let us (s)pray to the god of waste, our dear lord of leftovers.
End of sermon. This is a messianic fragrance (in natural spray, of course.)
— Etienne de Swardt
Apple Essence Upcycling, Rose Absolute Upcycling, Cedarwood Atlas Upcycling, Bitter Orange, Gariguette Strawberry