Sitting down to write a review of Guerlain’s Shalimar is like looking up at the top of Mount Everest and wondering how the hell you even begin the climb. It seems to cover (in one single bottle) a lot of the themes and notes people go looking for in separate perfumes – if you want vanilla, it’s the textbook example, if you want smoke and incense, well you got that too, if you want amber, then Shalimar is the mother of all modern ambers, and if you want animalics and leather, ditto. If you also happen to be the type of person who is interested in freaky notes, like baby diaper, burning tires, tar, and slightly rancid butter, then, why yes, Shalimar also has you covered.
It’s not an easy perfume to love right off the bat. Don’t get me wrong, Shalimar is easy to love, but the actual falling in love bit is not immediate. It took me ten days of wearing it before I could even tolerate it, let alone love it, but I got there and in end, it clicked for me, and that was it. Pure love. The everlasting kind. Whenever I see someone saying “Shalimar smells like old ladies”, or “Oh, Shalimar hates my skin”, you know what I am thinking? You’re just not trying hard enough. Put your back into it. If you can’t commit a week or ten days out of your life to understanding Shalimar, then not only are you cheating yourself out of experiencing one of the best perfumes ever made, you are also missing the opportunity to understand the structure of most orientals that came after Shalimar.
(I sound bossy, don’t I? Sorry….)
Hear me out. For once you unlock Shalimar, you start to see that Serge Lutens’ Ambre Sultan is just a snapshot of a portion of Shalimar (principally the amber and herbes de provence) blown up 150% and turned sideways. Etro’s Shaal Nur is an Italian-cologne-style take on the incense and opoponax in Shalimar. Mono di Orio’s excellent Vanille is a modern take on the woodsy vanilla of Shalimar. You can spot echoes of Shalimar in Chypre Palatin (vanilla and animalics), Fate Woman (bergamot and powder) and Bulgari Black (vanilla, rubber, smoke). See? Everywhere you look – Shalimar, Shalimar, Shalimar. Whether we are aware of it or not, most of today’s great orientals owe at least something of their construction to Shalimar.
But for all of my nerdy contextualizing, Shalimar smells just absolutely wonderful – opulent, lush, smoky, sexy, comforting, and warm. The opening, of course, is famously jarring, especially if you’re not used to it. I don’t know whether it’s the particularly stinky grade of Bergamot that Guerlain use, or the way it clashes with the vanilla, but the top notes are curdled and rancid, as if you’ve let the butter sit out uncovered all night in a warm kitchen. The vanilla smells tarry and burned, like rubber tires piled high and set on fire. And somewhere underneath all of that, there appears a slightly horrifying note of soiled diapers or at least baby powder that has been caked into the creases of a baby’s bottom. It smells unclean, and is pungent enough to singe your nose hairs off.
Here’s the odd thing – after you’ve passed the induction phase with Shalimar (some might call it a hazing), you start to actively crave the weird opening. When you begin to go “Mmmmmmm” rather than holding your breath, this is a sign that you’ve crossed the line. Welcome! It’s like a Shibboleth for hard-core fans of Shalimar – we’re all over here at the other side of the line, and everyone else is pressing their noses to the glass, shaking their heads and muttering, “I think you have Stockholm Syndrome.”
After the “difficult” first half hour (for which you may want to refrain from sniffing your wrists if you are smelling it for the first time), it is an easy ride from there on in. Sweet, smoky vanilla poured on top of a long, golden, powdery amber, with accents of leather, smoking resins, and animalic musks. It performs this neat trick of smelling comforting, familiar, and uber-sexy all at the same time. It lasts all day and, in my humble opinion, is just fantastic in whatever concentration and vintage you wear. Yes, the vintage parfum is the deepest and smokiest, but we can’t always be wearing that – for reasons of finances as well as time and place – so it’s good to know that Shalimar is still recognizably the same in the weakest EDC as it is in the parfum – thinner, yes, but still, you would never mistake Shalimar for anything else. She is the original Golden Girl and the ur-Oriental, and the perfume most worth getting to know if you are serious about perfume.