Djedi

Far better perfumistas have already analyzed the vintage, discontinued Guerlain, Djedi.

Victoria, Marina and March (plus others beyond the scope of my google) have eloquently delineated the seemingly dry, weirdly green, leatheristic, chypre-ish vetiver-esque nature of a fragrance created in the early part of the last century, now all but disappeared.

All that's left is to say how it feels: disturbing.

Supposedly it has held notes of rose, vetiver, musk, oakmoss, leather, civet and patchouli.

What remains, to my nose, is the vetiver, oakmoss, leather and, oh dear God, civet.

There is the barest shadow of sweetness in this scent of dessication and decay ... and I've just realized the image I'm drawing here: decomposition. Hopefully of vegetation, but I wouldn't completely discard the idea of a four-footed animal gone down the wrong road.

That's not very romantic, is it?

Well, all I can say is that Piguet's Bandit is the very youthful (and alive) younger sister of Djedi ... and it can be had for a relative song.

Take my advice: don't yearn for, or mourn, Djedi.

It IS strangely beautiful, in its Portrait of Dorian Gray way ... but even as I choose not to spend the night in a grave, I won't be choosing an extended outing with Djedi.