Lumiere (2000) by Rochas

One of the ugliest rose accords ever created. The 2000 version is a crime; I’ve rarely seen a rose so rat-like and sickly. I’m not sure if La Dame de Noir’s phrase ‘rose with hints of a cricket cage’ applies here, but that’s exactly what it smelled like: a rose with a sweet, dirty aftertaste and an insecticide sting, punctuated by horrid musky morning breath, like smelling a used tissue. I remember the simple crystal bottle, the orange and silver box, and the magazine ad featuring a voluptuous woman on the beach at dusk, during the golden hour. I tried it and was deeply disappointed. There was none of that sensual modernity from 2000; the opening was washed-out, a soft, light citrus, but as it developed, it turned into horrible, gritty aldehydes mixed with undefined wild flowers that made my stomach churn, smelling like a blend of insecticide and hair wax. The worst part was the rose acting like it owned the place, turning everything into a musky rose radiating dirt, dust, old dentures, and cardboard blankets. Pure horror. Not even God would buy this, because that modern promise vanished the moment you sprayed it, leaving something old and antique, like a stale catalog perfume in an older woman’s vanity. I’ve seen it in the Madame Rochas bottle once, don’t know if it’s the new version or the original from the eighties, and I never bothered to check. If anyone wants to savor a rose accord with the taste of crickets, rancid sweat, and dirty mouths, go ahead and try it. Gives me the chills.

I’m back, Lumiere, please! It’s incredible—so ethereal and unique. Nothing compares to what I’ve tried before. Fresh with presence but never intrusive; a scent that doesn’t tire you out. Powdery, delicate, and super feminine. The trail and longevity are moderate; I need to reapply every 5 hours, but it made me feel so complimented. I’m sorry it’s discontinued here. Greetings from the wonderful Mendoza, Argentina♥