I have just got to message you, to tell you, that this is one of the most comprehensive pieces of perfume writing I have ever come across. You have packed political thought, the psychology of olfaction and consuming, social history, colonialism, and the absolute sheer joy of smelling odd things in one beautiful essay. Thank you! Genuinely genius writing.
Probably an unpopular opinion, but at least the term oriental for fragrances is clear. If someone says it’s an “amber” I don’t know if they mean ambergris, vanilla/labdanum or like melted amber stone. Heck I’ve even heard someone describe Aventus as an amber because it has Ambroxen in it! 😭
This is as close to a phd paper on le Lion as it gets. Thank you :) it was wonderful to start the morning reading about Chanel and le Lion (even if the natzi references sound so … extremely recent in 2025). I need to read everything else you’ve covered, now :))
A beautifully written piece. Both thoughtful & written with clarity.
I had ploughed through a decant, or was it two, from a perfume buddy before I bought 75ml of Le Lion. I knew exactly what I was getting, or so I thought.
Le Lion arrived, I tore off the postal packaging, ripped off the cellophane & released the roar from the bottle. Oops. Even a perfumistae of 40+ years standing can make rooky errors. I sprayed my steel watch strap. Not an issue at first & I got on with my day.
There is a moment in the life of Le Lion, as there is with Shalimar, that the lemon/bergamot top first meets & curdles the vanillin. This creates a baby poop scent, usually this is so evanescent, one wonders if it’s hallucinatory.
It was this exact moment that my watch strap froze in time. On my skin Le Lion carried on its development, its ying & yang that I had become familiar with. On the watchstrap? Beastmode baby poop.
I scrubbed both me & the offending strap. Le Baby Poop kept on roaring. I isolated the watch on a sunny windowsill to decay the fragrance molecules. Despite an open window, that room honked. For months.
Never again could wear Le Lion or Shalimar. All, including my vintage Shalimar EdC & EdTs, were sold on. To this day I cannot wear either Shalimar or Le Lion. I miss the complexity, the artistry & the feeling of belonging to a century of women who whispered IFYKYK down the generations.
The watch was hidden in its box when the stinky of nappies died down. I now wear it again but I never spray perfume on jewellery.
I have just got to message you, to tell you, that this is one of the most comprehensive pieces of perfume writing I have ever come across. You have packed political thought, the psychology of olfaction and consuming, social history, colonialism, and the absolute sheer joy of smelling odd things in one beautiful essay. Thank you! Genuinely genius writing.
Probably an unpopular opinion, but at least the term oriental for fragrances is clear. If someone says it’s an “amber” I don’t know if they mean ambergris, vanilla/labdanum or like melted amber stone. Heck I’ve even heard someone describe Aventus as an amber because it has Ambroxen in it! 😭
This is as close to a phd paper on le Lion as it gets. Thank you :) it was wonderful to start the morning reading about Chanel and le Lion (even if the natzi references sound so … extremely recent in 2025). I need to read everything else you’ve covered, now :))
I'm only half way through and need a break as there's so much information here, thank you
A beautifully written piece. Both thoughtful & written with clarity.
I had ploughed through a decant, or was it two, from a perfume buddy before I bought 75ml of Le Lion. I knew exactly what I was getting, or so I thought.
Le Lion arrived, I tore off the postal packaging, ripped off the cellophane & released the roar from the bottle. Oops. Even a perfumistae of 40+ years standing can make rooky errors. I sprayed my steel watch strap. Not an issue at first & I got on with my day.
There is a moment in the life of Le Lion, as there is with Shalimar, that the lemon/bergamot top first meets & curdles the vanillin. This creates a baby poop scent, usually this is so evanescent, one wonders if it’s hallucinatory.
It was this exact moment that my watch strap froze in time. On my skin Le Lion carried on its development, its ying & yang that I had become familiar with. On the watchstrap? Beastmode baby poop.
I scrubbed both me & the offending strap. Le Baby Poop kept on roaring. I isolated the watch on a sunny windowsill to decay the fragrance molecules. Despite an open window, that room honked. For months.
Never again could wear Le Lion or Shalimar. All, including my vintage Shalimar EdC & EdTs, were sold on. To this day I cannot wear either Shalimar or Le Lion. I miss the complexity, the artistry & the feeling of belonging to a century of women who whispered IFYKYK down the generations.
The watch was hidden in its box when the stinky of nappies died down. I now wear it again but I never spray perfume on jewellery.
Reading from my hotel room in Lisbon - you know the Chanel counter at Il Corte Ingles hate to see me coming
Amazing work as always, I feel smarter already at its only 8am
Such a beautiful, seamless, and kaleidoscopic piece that manages to give proper homage to Shalimar without taking away the achievement from Le Lion.