Regarding Le Labo Vanille 44, Now Smell This presents a statement on their website, framing it as a quote, though I’m not certain from where the quote originated: “Vanille 44 doesn’t smell like vanilla… It is a complex association of amber and woody incense that will unveil after its first taste of musk, a profound smell of vanilla. This fragrance is just a poem.”
Now, when you go to Le Labo’s own website, this is what they have to say about their own Paris exclusive, Vanille 44: “Well our Vanille 44 does not smell of just vanilla. At least it doesn’t smell of vanilla straight away. We could say that this theme is a subtle ambery incensy woody sexy note that once acquainted with your premium pashmina sweater will release the finest of the vanilla bourbons that you’ve experienced.”
If you’ll notice, there is no mention of how Vanille 44 doesn’t smell like vanilla. I’m even including a screenshot of the Le Labo website for reference purposes — cuz, you know, you can’t always take my word for it (just ask Renè Schifferle).
Oh, wait! I just visited The Perfumed Court, and it seems like Now Smell This is quoting Le Labo via The Perfumed Court, except that there is no quote on the Le Labo website that says what The Perfumed Court published on their site, so unless the women running The Perfumed Court received some personal email from the people at Le Labo stating that Vanille 44 doesn’t smell like vanilla, then we’re all just stuck in our very own perfumed game of Telephone.
“Perfumed games of telephone mostly end in tears . . . mostly.”
But why does any of this even matter? Because Le Labo’s Vanille 44 DOES smell like vanilla — a LOT like vanilla — and saying that Vanille 44 is anything but a straight-forward vanilla from beginning to end would be a mistake. It’s not as rich in vanilla as Guerlain Jicky, or as pure and unrelenting a vanilla as Indult Tihota, but it’s definitely and unmistakably vanilla, with Le Labo making no official statements to the contrary.
The Le Labo site lists the ingredients for Vanille 44 as follows: bergamot, incense, mandarine, gaiac, muscenone, pipol, hedione and (of course) the all important vanilla bourbon — though wtf is pipol? I can’t find a single mention of it on the net in regards to perfumery, though I did find piperitol, a material with an herbal odor that naturally occurs in eucalyptus leaf, cascarilla bark and artemisia oil — is this the same thing?
I’m guessing that, basically, pipol is the new mystery meat. Moving right along . . .
After previously sniffing at the Le Labo Tokyo exclusive, Gaiac 10, I have to say that the gaiac oil in Vanille 44 is quite prevalent in the mix, creating a bridge that spans from the opening citrus notes through the incense heart and right on up to the musk infused drydown, but through it all, the vanilla is the star player and you never (ever) forget that you’re wearing a vanilla fragrance. Not really my thing, but if you’re a big fan of vanilla perfumes, you should be booking your trip to France about right now, as you can only purchase Vanille 44 at the Colette concept store in Paris.
The best reaction to the news of Vanille 44 as the Paris Le Labo exclusive is from CarmenCanada at POL: “I guess I was miffed that Le Labo thought this particularly represented Paris . . . “
Personally, I like Le Labo’s London exclusive Poivre 23 the most out of all their city exclusives I’ve yet tested — a peppery vanilla with an attractively smoky little kick. It runs circles around Vanille 44 (and Gaiac 10, and Aldehyde 44). I still have yet to test their Los Angeles exclusive, Musc 25, but I have a sample of it sitting on my table, patiently waiting. I hear through the grapevine that it’s pretty darn great.
Note: if you have your heart set on a vanilla-incense fragrance, I don’t think Vanille 44 is going to scratch that itch. I’d recommend Eau d’Italie Baume du Doge or Guerlain Bois d’Arménie, instead.
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Those guys at Le Labo have a sense of humor, which is only apparent when reading the French copy on their packaging inserts (remind me to send you an actual translation of the text when I get home and have access to it). I am wondering if they are making some kind of a joke listing Pipol as an ingredient – Pipol is a French transliteration of “people” which is the slang word used in France to refer to celebrities.
Seriously, a sense of humor is the only thing that makes sense, because I can’t find a single d**n reference to Pipol as a perfumery raw material anywhere.
It smells like celebrity! It smells like fame! I kind of like it . . .