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.
— Hugues de Sade
JE SUIS UN HOMME
Citrus, Spicy, Leathery
Napoleon would spray himself with it before going to combat; Je suis un Homme is a reinterpretation of Cologne accords dear to his heart. Citrus and bergamot top notes to summon up the guard and prepare to storm an attack somewhere in between a Corsican scrub - on a myrtle note - and a retreat from Russia. Birch wood and cognac evoke the smell of saddle leather, boots and belts. The charge will be hasty and imperial... in a rough and ready way! Energetic and clearly manly, Je suis un Homme suits men who assert themselves... and women who assume their masculine side, ready to launch the offensive without being scared of reversing roles.
Pardon our French, but this seductive boudoir blend of sultry powder, arresting leather and tantalizing florals is not for the Green. A sensuous fantasy that will ignite your inner Femme fatale.
Sheer sensuous fantasy. The powdered top note evokes a woman who dresses for seduction - a soft trail of lipstick, the rustling of lace. The intimate ritual of a femme fatale who sees right through the fragile armor of men. Her sophistication is intriguing, as is the commerce she makes of her body. Under the bitter-sweet touch of almond, like a secret that unfolds, comes a hint of supple leather, fluid and flexible, that introduces what is to come: a boudoir, fingers that tighten on a leatherette sofa and the palpable presence of raw desire. Doesn’t every woman have the fantasy of being a temptress in a hotel bar, of yielding to desire in the intimacy of a lift or of giving way to sensuality in silk sheet luxury?
For one night only, one thrilling night, there are forbidden pleasures and delicious dangers behind the doors of a boudoir. She is a woman of fantasy in a real world - you can see her, hear her, touch her and smell her - and then she’s gone. The thrilling moments may never be recaptured. And you don’t even know her name.
This is not love. But you’ll never forget her.
Rose absolute, violet, leather, lily of the valley, tangerine, ginger, rice powder, amber, animal notes
Woody, Spicy, Leathery
Nothing is Everything.
Do not believe what you first see... under the demureness of the name, the spicy savour of blackcurrant bays and the musky notes of blonde suede. Rien is a second skin perfume, a perfume that clings to the body and perseveres in the mind. Like venial sin on the verge of becoming mortal, irresistible and resolutely pervasive. As light as mohair and as precious as cashmere, the fragrance envelops skin with a powdered caress. It has the meticulous elegance and hypnotic beauty of a modern Dorian Gray, in a feminine/masculine version.
An entrancing fragrance that leaves an unforgettable imprint. Utter charm, utterly charismatic. The vanilla/opium accord of the drydown reinforces the addiction. Rien is an essential.
The water slips over him as if sliding down a marble rock, sinking into the grooves of his muscles, vanishing into his pores. This is fresh, pure water, with top notes of aldehydes and lemon, a water that washes away the sins of the night and leaves the skin luminous. Tom of Finland feels clean, like a shaving from a cake of soap. It is an ode to the beauty of the male body and to the radiance of the natural self.
For this man, clothing becomes a jewel-case that serves to reveal the true erotic power of the flesh. Tom of Finland is a breath of fresh air, offering unrestricted access to the immense outdoors, the depths of the forest, with notes of birch leaves, cypress, galbanum and pine at its heart. Straight, gay... These words are irrelevant here. Tom of Finland is beyond sexuality - he is sex, in all its fullness and magnitude, open and erect. Fantasy clings to him like his leather jacket, with suede, musk, and ambergray in the base notes. His belt is fastened with an accord of pepper and spicy-fresh saffron, tangled with a blond suede sensuality on a vanilla bed of tonka bean and iris. This is a man who wants to play, to love, to die and be reborn, again and again. Tom of Finland is a tribute to tomorrow’s glorious possibilities.
The more subtle, yet undeniable side of seduction: bold Violet, powdery Iris, wrapped in a supple leather. To be sprayed with caution or with confidence.
When the Putain des Palaces enters into a Dangerous Complicity, a relationship is born. It is a marriage of mystery, an uneasy merger of hearts and minds and flesh.
We have taken the best of two exquisite formulations, combining the explicitly seductive powers of rose, violet, and powder with the implicit perils of rum and patchouli.
What emerges from this satanic union of temptation and danger, jeopardy and passion, is a sweet and shocking folly. She sips her rum through rose-red lips and wonders what beast she must adore tonight, what hearts she must break. She is Rimbaud’s Beauty, and the man who takes her in his arms may find her bitter, but desire conquers fear. She dazzles him with the violet rays of her eyes that hold the memory of her vices, and he cannot escape. Because lust is in the eyes of the beholder.
Rum JE, ginger JE, rose absolute, violet, coconut JE, osmanthus absolute, lily of the valley, jasmine, ylang ylang, tangerine, rice powder, amber, leather, animal notes, sandalwood
VIERGES ET TOREROS
The arena was flooded with sun and the clamor of the crowd rose from the tiers like an offering. Where were we? In Seville? In Puerto Santa Maria? Definitely somewhere in Andalusia, where the stature and pride of men are compelling.
On this particular Sunday in the month of May, the combat to be delivered did not have the aim of putting a bull to death. The intention was a sensuous ritual act: to confront animal-like notes with the influential power of a flower, one of the most odorant in the vegetal world, the tuberose. Wood, musk and costus, in daring, unreasonably abundant proportions, would once and for all bite the dust in this arena dedicated solely to the glory of men. In this openly sexual confrontation - me the woman, you the man -, one of the most blasphemous of men’s perfumery, the purity of the tuberose is falsely innocent so that in appearance only, these macho reputed notes seem to be the only ones victorious. But smelling it tells a completely different story... the nose instinctively knows who the victor is.
She has all the assets of platinum blond seduction. A full-fledged décolleté, shapely hips and a sensuous catlike walk. A perfectly curvaceous body in a sequined lamé dress, a Technicolor version of the American dream! Accords of ambergray, fur and white pepper evoke an excess of luxury, the flashiness of casinos, women in sheath dresses and Marilyn naked under a mink coat. Is she a real blonde?
To know the answer one will have to wait for nudity… Flushes of aldehydic notes fill the bedroom air, a tribute to the perfume the star wore at night, red-hot kisses enhanced by a bubbling thirst-quenching pink champagne note that leaves one panting. One feels like biting into this lovely sugared almond. Everything a brunette ever dreamed of!
Aldehydes, liqueur brandy of Champagne, Rose, Peach of Grapevine, White Pepper, Myrrh, Patchouli, Suede
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