There are a couple ways to look at Miss Balmain, and both of them involve a comparison with Bandit, which is no doubt its reference scent. (Germaine Cellier, the perfumer who composed both these masterpieces, was known to reuse her famous accords in different compositions.)
In the first comparison, Miss Balmain is Bandit Lite — not as daring, not as angular, and not as harsh as Bandit, the representative fragrance from what Luca Turin has called Germaine Cellier's "brutalist" school of perfume-making. Perhaps Miss Balmain is the dominatrix-in-training who will at some point drop all her feminine signifiers (flowers and softness) and take up the whip Bandit saves for her for when she is ready to graduate.
But if you don't think of Bandit as the reference scent, but rather as the building block accord, then Miss Balmain is the perfected, more fully matured Bandit, rounded out with its greens and florals, every note singing in harmony. Bandit is like a saturated, underexposed photograph whose brightness (florals and green notes) glow almost imperceptibly under its cloak of darkness. Miss Balmain is the same picture ratcheted up one full stop, so that those invisible greens and florals come forward. Or, Miss Balmain is like those paintings that get cleaned up by art historians, revealing color and brightness where there was only brooding darkness before.
Unlike the Jolie Madame, Miss Balmain's sweetness isn't candied and doesn't stick around for as long as it does in JM. It's also flanked by more tartness, which offsets the sweetness for those like me who aren't fond of it as the predominant character of a perfume.
When I sniff Miss Balmain, I get the same impression of overwhelming beauty as I do with Cellier's Vent Vert. It's an "everything all at once" scent, joyous and kaleidescopic in its loveliness. There's a rush of sweetness in the gardenia, jasmine and narcissus immediately followed by tartness and then the sophisticated chypre base.
Cellier fragrances like Vent Vert and Bandit give me the kind of satisfaction that Vietnamese food does. Vietnamese food often operates on the principle that each bite should give you a little bit of everything: saltiness, umami or savoriness from meat or seafood, spice, brightness (often from citrus), freshness from herbs and greens, and some kind of crunch or interesting texture.When I smell Miss Balmain, I get the same satisfaction I feel from a perfectly crisp-fried spring roll I've wrapped in lettuce, mint and herbs and dipped in citrusy-spicy-fish sauce: the sense that I am appreciating a perfectly blended, but easily readable, combination of contrasting notes at the same time.
As I inhale Miss Balmain's top notes, I can smell perfect rays of gardenia, narcissus, jasmine and citrus shining through the dryer notes of leather, patchouli, vetiver and oakmoss, like rainbows on a gloomy day. In short: vintage Miss Balmain is a stunner.
Top notes: Aldehydes, coriander, gardenia, citrus oils, thujone
Heart notes: Carnation, narcissus, orris root, jasmine, rose, jonquil
Base notes: Leather, amber, patchouli, castoreum, moss, vetiver
Image source: Photobucket
beautiful analysis of the scent...
Posted by: Lucy | December 06, 2009 at 11:41 AM
I just got 3 decants from TPC's Animalic sample: Kouros, Bandit and Miss Balmain. Tried the Kouros last night before bed, and woke up smelling like the end of a long weekend in my 20s (Katie Puckrick Smells nails Kouros when she describes it as "a remarkable tug of war between good hygiene and bad behavior").
So, which shall I try first, Bandit or Miss Balmain? Hmmm...
Posted by: julie | April 09, 2011 at 10:26 AM
Those are three amazing scents, Julie! I love that TPC offers this service. It's genius. Gosh, which one to try first? Maybe Bandit, and then her little sister Miss Balmain? I love them both, so, so much. Come back and let me know what you think!
Posted by: Perfumaniac | April 09, 2011 at 01:09 PM
Oh, my! This resembles my beloved Mollie Parnis, tho less floral and with a "bite" of animal. mmmm. just about to wear it to bed.
Posted by: julie | April 12, 2011 at 02:04 AM
Next day: a slight animalic residue remains, so slight that the dirtiness is alluring. I also detectjust a soupçon of "fond du ashtray" about it - and I mean that in a good way.
My decant was vintage parfum. Does anyone know how the modern formulation compares? Also, extrait vs other forms?
Posted by: julie | April 12, 2011 at 04:11 PM
So glad you love it, Julie! I like this one so much more than Jolie Madame. The "fond du ashtray" isn't accompanied by candied violet, thank god! I have the vintage parfum Miss Balmain, too. I don't think I own anything in extrait form, unfortunately. I haven't tried the modern formulation, and didn't even know there was one!
Posted by: Perfumaniac | April 12, 2011 at 04:27 PM
I forgot I had a typepad acct. Would you like me to send you a tiny decant of the Mollie Parnis? You write so well I'd love to hear your take on it. Do tell me the best way to decant a sample.
Posted by: julie | April 12, 2011 at 09:32 PM
So sweet, julie. I'd love a sample! I emailed you. :-)
Posted by: Perfumaniac | April 13, 2011 at 12:52 AM
Wonderful description of an unbelievable beautiful scent ! I can only agree with every word, for me it was love at the very first sniff too and I am not even a Chypre fan at all (my #1 before I found Miss Balmain was George Sand by Histoires de Parfums).
What a masterpiece !
Posted by: Alexandra Winkler | February 20, 2013 at 02:08 PM
Hi Alexandra, So strange that you left this message just now — I was just revising my manuscript and just arrived at Miss Balmain, which I love, too. Please say more about the George Sand scent? Theyre similar?
Posted by: Perfumaniac | February 20, 2013 at 02:51 PM