Notes: bergamot, rose water, almond, Damask rose, Rose de Mai, incense, vanilla, patchouli.
I always look forward to the new Shalimar flanker each year. This time, Guerlain highlights rose in Shalimar Millésime Rose. The original Shalimar doesn’t feature rose prominently, so it’s an interesting choice to introduce it now, especially since other notes like leather haven’t been explored yet. But rose it is, and I’m not complaining; it’s very nicely executed. However, much like last year’s L’Essence, it feels somewhat mass-appealing and detached from the original.
In the first few minutes after applying Millésime Rose, I questioned what Guerlain had created. The bright neon pink of Delina immediately came to mind, as well as the horror of Akro’s Crush. Thankfully, the fragrance settles, though for the life of the scent, I perceive it in various shades of pink. The fragrance smells better on skin than on paper. As with most perfumes, it blooms best with a careful application—too many sprays can make it overly cloying. Two to three sprays seem to hit the sweet spot.
I can see why people have compared it to Rose Chérie. Both fragrances share a youthful, playful character, with a powdered, confectionery quality. The bitter almond note that I perceive in both scents takes the edge off the sweetness, ensuring that neither fragrance veers into overly childish territory.
Guerlain lists three rose ingredients in their pyramid: rose water, Damask rose, and May rose. These roses exhibit powdery, gourmand, and fresh facets. Millésime Rose is always bright and never dark, despite its jammy qualities. The fresh cut-through of the rose water note has me envisioning fields of pink roses blooming in the springtime. However, the experience might have been different. Often, if sweet pink rose scents (see Akro Crush) aren’t executed perfectly, they can evoke associations with shampoo, Starburst sweets, or cotton candy instead of a natural aroma.
I don’t think it’s quite as cosmetic/powdery as Rose Chérie, and my comparisons shift more toward L’Essence over time. Indeed, the base notes in Millésime Rose start to reveal some of the vanillic character of last year’s flanker. If there’s one thing we can count on, it’s that Guerlain consistently delivers a solid vanilla foundation. The pink rose, now far less neon than in the opening, begins to fuse with the balsamic vanilla base, and the scent becomes a more muted, creamy pink. It feels subdued at times, and purposely lacks the original’s grandiose feel and layered nuances.
I enjoy its simple feel, though. Millésime Rose is far easier to take than Shalimar, though I do detect some smoky, leathery nuances in the base. I see this flanker as Delphine Jelk and Guerlain catering to a new audience, perhaps aiming not to intimidate anyone with the animalic bite of the original—a Shalimar for those who don’t enjoy Shalimar.
To illustrate my point, I first tried Millésime Rose in store with my Shalimar-averse mum. She preferred Millésime Rose over the classic. In fact, she liked Millésime Rose more than the new Chanel fragrance, Coco Mademoiselle Crush Absolu, and she’s a huge Chanel fan. I did too, although it’s not a radical game-changing piece of work. It certainly didn’t have me dancing around like a prospector who has struck gold. Thankfully, because I would have looked pretty stupid dancing a jig in front of my mum and the Guerlain sales assistant. Although if I had, the SA might have taken pity on me and offered me a decant or sample. Alas, no samples and no eureka moments, but some solid work to enjoy from Jelk and Guerlain.
I wonder what Guerlain will give us next year? Will it be leather? For some reason, I’m thinking violet. Though I hope I’m wrong.
Note: Bottle image courtesy of Guerlain. All other images are my own. The roses are from my garden.
