To attack the sun, to drive it from the universe, to create perpetual darkness – what an outrageous proposition! But Donatien Alphonse François, Marquis de Sade, was an outrageous man. He took on many roles: writer, revolutionary, philosopher, libertine. He disdained the social norms and he demanded unrestrained freedom. He questioned every assumption about love, beauty, even violence, and he ignored the taboos. He wanted to attack the sun and ignite the world, liberate us from our preconceptions, break down the barriers which keep us from accepting our own desires. We identify with him, because we try to do the same.
Which is why Etat Libre d’Orange has chosen to celebrate a man who celebrated extremes. We have invited the Marquis de Sade to join our family of outrageous perfumes. He has accepted with pleasure . . . and maybe a little pain.
Etat Libre d’Orange and the Marquis de Sade. It’s a marriage made in heaven, or possibly in hell. Either way, it works. Together, we launch an assault on the sun.
To read Sade is to take a risk — one is suddenly forced to face one’s self, exposed. It’s a wonderful risk to take if you want to plunge yourself into the heart and the body of humanity. Because Sade liberates. He pushes us to imagine and to desire, far beyond the boundaries which saturate our perspective.
"How many times, dear God, have I not longed to be able to attack the sun, snatch it out of the sky, create a general darkness, or use that star to ignite the world."
As a creator of perfume, how could I open my perspective, imagine beyond my limitations? A very personal question. The cistus! One of my paradoxes. One of my gray areas.
I have always recoiled from the cistus, I’ve avoided it or hidden it under thick layers of vanilla and amber as a way of escaping it. This is why I have made myself confront a radical formula: the cistus, exposed, and in all its states.
My dear Marquis: here’s to your suns, to our volcanoes!
— Quentin Bisch, perfumer
From the depths of his prisons, Sade constantly reminded his contemporaries - and all men - of his injunction to go beyond compromise, to overcome conformity, and to always put freedom rst.
To be yourself, without suffering the judgment of others; to be yourself and to live as you want to live... "All human happiness is in the imagination," Sade reminds us.
Sade was the freest man who ever lived. Sade is desire and passion, strength and tenderness, provocation and sensuality. His scent is the same: in nitely volcanic.
Like his perfume, Sade cannot be banished, reduced to silence, made to disappear. He is there, always there: unforgettable. This is an eternal fragrance that endures just as his thought endures, beyond time.
An olfactive toast to celebrate those who defy convention, the Remarkable People of our Free State of Orange, you. Effervescent citrus bubbles over a celebratory pop of champagne and a spiced heart of defiant Sandalwood.
Remarkable People. You know who you are. For every epoch, for every era, there are remarkable people. In classical mythologies, there were the demigods, the offspring of a god and a human, or a mortal who was raised to divine status. An ancient Greek poet used the word demigod as a synonym for hero. They demonstrated strength and power, a willingness to face challenges and confront danger. In the New World, there were the explorers, who discovered unknown lands. They were heroes too, battling forces of nature to find new territories. And throughout history - scientists, artists, composers, entertainers - all heroes in their own way. New heroes are born every day. There is an element, or an event, or a circumstance, or maybe just a quirk in their personalities that changes them, empowers them, enables them to transcend the ordinary. They believe in something different, something better. They want to change the rules, break the rules, alter the status quo, in whatever grand or small way they find meaningful. They are on a journey, and maybe it’s the effort alone that makes them remarkable. For some, their efforts bring fame and glory. Many others remain unknown. But they cannot - they should not - be ignored. These are our people - the remarkable citizens of Etat Libre d’Orange, the Orange Free State. The “un” people - uncompromising, unexpected, unconventional, unpredictable. We salute them, we honor them, by offering the extraordinary fragrance they deserve.
Grapefruit, champagne accord, cardamom, jasmine, curry JE, black pepper, labdanum, sandalwood, lorenox
Based on the true story of a once beautiful man who ended up a Fat Electrician. Because while beauty fades, a good fragrance is forever. And contrary to the name, this is an ever attractive and wearable vetiver-based scent modernized by woody Vanilla Bean and balsamic Myrrh.
His beauty would have been his greatest asset. One imagines he was raised in the big air of Texas, his soft skin scrubbed by ears of wheat, his eyelashes curled by grappling with grace against a blinding sun. A Midnight Cowboy lost on city asphalt.
A fisherman without a line, he was made to be hooked by others, to believe in his fate without knowing it, to wreak havoc and forget it over time. Youth for women-of-a-certain-age, stock for late-night parties, a partner to accompany the wealthy of Palm Beach on nature walks, his splendor is consumed in the service of others. Now, a Fat Electrician in New Jersey, his talent depleted in his sexual decline. This is the curse of beauty - it doesn’t last.
Vetiver from Haiti, chestnut cream, olive leaves, myrrh, vanilla, opoponax
I AM TRASH
Floral, Woody, Fruity
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.
LES FLEURS DU DÉCHET | I AM TRASH
THE MOST WANTED SCENT MADE FROM THE UNWANTED
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
Call it by its name or, more simply, by ‘Hermann’. Either way the people who compliment you are going to need to know which fragrance you’re wearing. A cool, sheer and woody blend that is unlike any other.
Who goes beside you into the forest on the darkest night ? In Victor Hugo’s poem, « À quoi songeaient les deux cavaliers dans la forêt », (What Two Horsemen Were Thinking in the Forest), the narrator says “ by my side, Hermann seemed to me like a shadow. ”
We all have shadows, even at night in the dark forest. You may call yours by another name : your invisible friend. Your conscience, your soul, maybe even your complementary ego. Your shadow could have a name, like Hermann. Or your shadow could be your perfume. This is your companion. You can argue with your companion, you can challenge your companion, you can test the boundaries of your own attitudes. You can debate the finer points of existence. But you cannot lose this companion, not ever. This is your alternative self. As you move through life and contemplate its meaning, you ask unanswerable questions. When you’re overwhelmed with uncertainties, look to your shadow. Maybe you’ll get a response. Maybe not. But at least you’ll have an interesting conversation.
The night was so black and the forest very dark. By my side, Hermann seemed to me like a shadow. Our horses were galloping. Guardians of god ! The clouds in the sky looked like marble. The stars flew through the branches of the trees Like a swarm of firebirds.
I am full of regrets. Broken by suffering, Hermann’s deep spirit is empty of hope. I am full of regrets. Oh my loves, sleep! Yet, while traveling through the green solitude, Hermann says to me: “ I am thinking about half-opened graves. ” And I say to him : “ I think of closed tombs. ”
He looks ahead : I Iook back, Our horses gallop across the clearing ; The wind brings to us from far away the sound of the angelus bell ; he says : “ I think of those who are afflicted by existence, Of those who are, those who live ”. “ Me, ” I say to him, “ I think of those who are no longer ! ”
The fountains are singing. What do the fountains say ? The oaks are murmuring. What do the oaks murmur ? The bushes are whispering like old friends. Hermann says to me, “ The living never doze. At this moment, some eyes cry, other eyes are awake. ” And I say to him, “ Alas ! Other eyes are asleep ! ”
Hermann then continues. “ Misfortune, that’s life. The dead no longer suffer. They are happy ! I envy Their graves where grass grows, where trees shed their leaves. Because the night caresses them with soft flames ; Because the sky beams peace upon all their souls In all the tombs at the same time !
And I say to him, “ Be quiet! Respect the black mystery ! The dead are lying in the ground under our feet. The dead, these are the hearts that once loved you This is your expired angel ! This is your father and your mother ! Do not dismay them through bitter irony. As in a dream, they hear our voices. ”
Blackcurrant buds, black pepper, galbanum, calypsone, geosmin, frankincense, pepperwood, petalia, rose absolute, patchouli, ambroxan