Illuminum White Gardenia Petals Review: Update

Back in early May, I reviewed Illuminum White Gardenia Petals, the perfume worn by the Duchess of Cambridge on her wedding day. My review was based on a carded sample supplied by Roullier White, the single UK stockist.

In July I received a complimentary bottle of White Gardenia Petals, and was startled and disappointed to find that it seemed to bear little or no resemblance to the sample I already owned. I enlisted the help of Olfactoria of Olfactoria's Travels, who had herself purchased a full bottle around the time of the wedding, and together we were able to compare old and new versions, and were both convinced that the two scents were not the same.

As a first step, I sent my bottle and the original sample back to Roullier White, asking them to investigate this curious discrepancy. The store referred my query to Illuminum's PR company, with whom I have kept in regular touch over the past few months. They agree that there is a clear difference between the two versions of the scent and inquiries into the matter are ongoing. So far the version reviewed by Olfactoria and me (and quite possibly by others) has been traced to a small production batch - the second one made.

So if the soapy, musky "demure white floral in a veil" which I reviewed here is not White Gardenia Petals, how does the correct version of the scent smell?

For reference, here are the notes again:

Notes: gardenia, lily, ylang ylang, muguet, jasmine, amber woods.

Well, I am sorry to report that on my skin official White Gardenia Petals is a sharper, greener, more metallic scent. I do detect a gardenia note in the opening, but it is not veiled and softened by powdery musk as is the case with my original sample. Instead, it comes off as a tad strident and indolic. The early sample of White Gardenia Petals sits on my wrist like a muzzy, soapy cloud with a pretty floral bouquet at its heart, while the correct version of White Gardenia Petals feels more sheer and airy somehow. I see a slight crossover with Annick Goutal's Un Matin d'Orage, but it does not share that scent's limpid, dewy facet, and is at times reminiscent of a functional fragrance like fabric softener. Of the two, I will say that the correct version of White Gardenia Petals smells more like gardenias, possibly because the floral notes are not hidden behind a musky haze, or maybe because there weren't any gardenias in the erroneous batch of this scent anyway. Time will perhaps tell, but meanwhile I just wanted to draw readers' attention to the fact that my review - like that of Olfactoria - is based on the same fragrance, which is not, however, the official version of White Gardenia Petals available to buy today.


Photo of The Duchess of Cambridge from rumahaini.com, photo of gardenias from mgonline.com

Fascination Perfumery - Part 1: On The Prowl In Fougère Royale, Le Mimosa Le Mishmash, And What The Duchess Wore Next...

So I was up in Blackpool at the weekend, visiting my Scandal- - and now Flora Bella- and Plum- - loving friend (note exemplary use of the double hyphen there), and on the way home of course I couldn’t resist calling into Fascination Perfumery in Lytham, the Les Senteurs of the North, as I dubbed it once. Well, that is not strictly fair, as Fascination combines mainstream and niche in about a 50/50 ratio, and doesn’t carry some of the more limited distribution stuff like Parfumerie Générale, say, which is not to say they wouldn’t love to – and one day maybe will.

But anyway, I have got into the habit of popping into the store unannounced and the pattern I now readily drop into with the manager, Lynn(e) - still haven’t bottomed out the matter of the floating “e” - is that we engage in staccato bursts of conversation, which immediately subside if a customer walks in, whereupon I melt into the background. I will typically loiter behind the masculine fixture (as in shelves, obviously), or stand off to the side by the Acqua di Parma display. However many times I go – and in fairness this is still only my third visit – Lynne (let's settle on the “e” for now) never fails to ask me my top five or ten scents, I guess because they might have changed in the intervening period. She will also fire a barrage of questions at me about new releases:

"What do you think of Acqua Fiorentina? And what about Jimmy Choo? Have you tried Opus V? Mon Jasmin Noir? Le Mimosa? Via Verri? And the new Serge? Yes, Jeux de Peau, that one. How about Jardin sur le Toit? Houbigant Fougère Royale – you must smell that one! And where do you stand on the L'Artisan range in general?”

And much, much more in that vein, on and off for the hour and a quarter I was there.

And in between our chats Lynne meets and greets the steady stream of regular customers who wander in. It feels less like a shop and more like one of those open house parties – you know, where you drop in anytime, stay for a short while and amble off again – only this time the people were leaving with one of the store’s distinctive black and white polka dot carrier bags…

At one point, Lynne had sprayed two male customers with Fougère Royale, and there was some good humoured joshing about which of them would manage to "pull" the only female in the store at the time (staff and myself excepted!) whilst wearing it. The lady in question was well into her seventies at a guess, and was resting on one of the two chairs by the door when she overheard the scented gauntlet being thrown down. Mischievously rising to the occasion, she immediately leapt to her feet and threw her arms round one of the two men sporting the Houbigant. It was a pure comedy moment, for which hopefully you didn’t necessarily have to be there!

Now you know how when perfumistas meet, they get straight down to business, sniffing each other like dogs and lamp posts – no, hold on, lamp posts serve a different function – well, I forgot to mention that when I arrived I went up to Lynne as soon as she came free, held my wrist out and announced: “Guess what? I smell like a duchess!”, echoing my Facebook comment from a week ago when I first acquired this sample of Kate Middleton's wedding scent. Lynne laughed and both she and her assistant Emma buried their noses in my wrist. Emma was slightly more taken with White Gardenia Petals than Lynne, but both prefer more full-bodied scents as a rule. I think they thought White Gardenia Petals was pretty, occasion-appropriate, but otherwise unremarkable. No matter – it is very “me” all right!

As we were on the subject of the new Duchess, Lynne let slip the fact that her bridal make up – or some combination of it, as we didn’t go into specifics – was by Shiseido. So I may be getting closer towards identifying that specific shade of pink lip gloss... And Lynne also had a juicy nugget of info, namely that not long ago Kate had reportedly been staying at the Duke of Westminster’s house (okay, house may be an understatement), and the lady-in-waiting clocked a black bottle of Narciso Rodriguez For Her EDT on the dressing table!

Right, so I have said at the top of this post “what the Duchess wore next”, which arguably involves a bit of poetic licence, because I don’t know for a fact that she will wear Narciso Rodriguez in future – whether on her honeymoon, where she has apparently now gone, or ever again. But surely if she owns a bottle of this – even if she now also owns Cambridge, or the whole of Cambridgeshire, making a bottle of scent either way a tad expendable – I think on balance that she is not one to waste resources. Yes, I shall stick my neck out and say there's a reasonable chance of future royal wearings of NR for Her. Perhaps the Duchess will toggle between that and Dune, whilst keeping White Gardenia Petals for high days and holidays. And not forgetting that bottle of Creed she may still have knocking about in cupboard, the one that also has royal connections!

Okay, so much for what we talked about – what did I smell?

Well, I clearly wasn’t going to get out of the store without sniffing the latest reworking of that Ur-cologne or Grandaddy of all masculines, Houbigant Fougère Royale (Lynne was pretty indiscriminate in spraying men and women alike!). After it had settled down a bit on my skin I thought it was surprisingly soft and wearable for a masculine, especially one with "Fougère" in the name. The reference to “Royale” - which turns out to be part of the name of the fern, with no regal associations whatsoever! - always registers as an intensifier with me, as in “a right royal cock up”. So I was pleasantly surprised by this scent and would recommend it for male friends looking for a classic fragrance with a modern twist. Having just checked the notes, I bet the reason I find Fougère Royale acceptable and not too barber’s shoppy is because of the “feminised”, oriental-style basenotes counterbalancing the usual herbal suspects in the rest of the composition:

Notes: bergamot, lavender, rosemary, carnation, cinnamon, geranium, rose de Mai, amber, patchouli, tonka

I also had a quick whiff of Amouage Opus V, just on card. It was a fleeting impression, but I got a marked iris note and a tolerable oud-y aspect. Stronger than Le Labo’s Oud 27, say, but staying the right side of Homage Attar, my ultimate oud nemesis.

Then I had a retrial of Annick Goutal’s Le Mimosa, sadly with a similar verdict to before. It was too big somehow for a mimosa scent – too “busy” in a fuzzy, fruity way, and with none of that bright, sherbety quality I so appreciate in L’Artisan’s Mimosa pour Moi. Yes, there was a definite weird fruit note in there that I really didn’t care for. I am lost for words to put my finger on why this was so wrong, although Comme des Garçon’s Daphne was also wrong in a similar way, as was Dior’s Escale aux Marquises. The notes just didn’t mesh well. Fortunately, here is Kevin of Now Smell This, who isn’t lost for words at all, and gets straight to the heart of this discordant “wrongness”.

“Le Mimosa opens with a dry, flat note that smells like a combination of pencil shavings, cumin powder, and ‘hairy’ leather. This slightly ‘dirty’ aroma marches thru the entire composition…only soap will remove it from skin. As Le Mimosa develops, I smell artificial ‘peach’ and I detect, for a split second, a puff of iris, a speck of anise, and some vague ‘citrus’. There’s plenty of white musk and the aforementioned ‘peach’ in Le Mimosa’s base, but none of Le Mimosa’s notes produces a scent with the aroma of fresh mimosa blossoms (if that’s what you are looking for or expecting).”

Phew! It isn’t just me then. See how Kevin is using inverted commas to physically distance himself from the distasteful ingredients. And what a criminal waste of a cute ribbon!

I also tried Cartier de Lune on card which was pretty and effortless – a clean, sparkling, radiant, marine? floral of some kind. It reminded me rather of Kenzo L’Eau par Kenzo, though the notes don’t really coincide.

Notes: pink pepper, juniper berries, honeysuckle, wild rose, cyclamen, bindweed (morning glory,) lily of the valley, musk, and woods.

It would be a pleasant office scent, but for lunar mystery and a kick in the solar plexus, I'll stick to Flora Bella. : - )

To be continued...




Photo of Lytham from nwprecast.com, photo of Houbigant Fougère Royale from fragrantica.com, photo of dressing table from thehomelook.blogspot.com, photo of NR for Her from beautysteals.com, photo of Le Mimosa from peonymelbourne.blogspot.com, photo of Cartier de Lune from escentual.com, store photo my own

Illuminum White Gardenia Petals Review - A Demure White Floral In A Veil

UPDATE: The following review is based on a sample of Illuminum White Gardenia Petals supplied to me by Roullier White shortly after the Royal Wedding. It now transpires that this was not the correct version of The Duchess of Cambridge's wedding scent. For further clarification and a review of the official White Gardenia Petals fragrance, please see my latest post here.

Today the mainstream press caught up with the news about White Gardenia Petals, with features in the Daily Mail, London's Metro magazine and Marie Claire - indeed there are now articles about the Illuminum scent everywhere you turn! I spoke to the staff at the Roullier White store on Monday and they said they were trying to gear up for future demand, but that it was very hard for them to gauge it, given the massive exposure the perfume is having - first on beauty and perfume blogs - and now, as I say, across the media. Their initial stock of 50 bottles flew out the door apparently, and there is a 10 day delivery delay on the 50ml size, though none on the larger 100ml bottle if any blind buyers are feeling particularly bullish! As the only stockist in the UK, Roullier White is clearly thrilled to be the focus of such a feverish global buying spree on the part of perfumistas and the general public alike.

I note too that Luckyscent has now got some White Gardenia Petals in (good move!), and I would expect The Perfumed Court to follow suit if they haven't already done so. A friend of mine has signed up to a split of this scent (unsniffed), so overall it seems as though perfume fans are setting about acquiring it by every means available.

Now we may not want to marry into the Royal Family particularly, or become a housewife on the isle of Anglesey - I don't know if it is the remoteness of the place or the lack of night life which drives them to it, but as far as I knew Anglesey is most famous for the jumpers off the Menai Bridge (the Golden Gate of North Wales, if you will). Oh, and not forgetting the hell hole that is Holyhead, where those living up the West Coast line may well end up if they are foolish enough to nod off on the train home from London. But notwithstanding all of that, some of us wouldn't mind smelling a bit like the new Duchess, as though that might miraculously confer upon us her nipped in waist, even white smile and perfect smokey eye.

And then today I received my pack of samples from the Roullier White store, comprising White Gardenia Petals and two other scents from Illuminum's quite extensive range; they sound right up my street, just going off the names, though I haven't had a chance to try them yet: Ginger Pear and Bergamot Blossom.

So how does White Gardenia Petals smell, I know you are all wondering...?

Well, it's very pretty, soft and faintly powdery (unless that is the vestiges of yesterday's decanting, but on balance probably not). It is delicate and feminine, not sweet, not particularly coconutty, but rather like a very diaphanous white floral blend that has been slightly "muzzified" by a wispy veil - like Catherine's veil of silk tulle, indeed! And though there's gardenia, ylang ylang and jasmine in there apparently, White Gardenia Petals is not at all heady. I'd go so far as to call it demure and ladylike, with a slight hint of danger. Slightly more dangerous than Serge Lutens' Un Lys, say. On the "louche-o-meter", where 10 is an out and out slutfest, I'd call Un Lys a 2 and this a 3. Maybe a 3.5 if you really sloshed it on. That is the sort of vibe, yes.

And then I can't quite decide whether I detected a slightly plasticky note when I first applied it - like the opening of Iris Ukiyoe or Kenzo Amour L'Eau Florale, especially the latter if anyone is familiar with it. However, it doesn't detract unduly and dissipates after a few minutes, as the white floral bouquet starts to cloak itself in the muting, fuzzy sea of tulle...

Update: eight hours in I can report that the longevity is good - there is additionally a sultry, tangy bite now to the powdery, musky drydown, which I guess must be the ylang ylang's last stand.

So....setting aside the HUGE "Duchess in the room" factor - to the best of my ability, at least - I will say on record that if I had bought a bottle of White Gardenia Petals unsniffed (as so many will have done), I wouldn't regret it...





Photo of the Duchess of Cambridge from herroyalhighnessprincesscatherine.com, photo of the Menai bridge from gallery.hd.org, photo of a gardenia from greatgardensecrets.com, photo of the Duchess waving from vendo-me.com, photo of White Gardenia Petals from the Roullier White website.