I love extremes in perfume. (In everything, really.) If it’s a green fragrance, I want it to be so green as to be bitter and slightly scary. If it’s a floral, I want it indolic, overripe, and decadent. If it’s animalic, I want…well, you get the picture.
My love of extremes can also be satisfied by perfumes that try to do it all and succeed, multitaskers that are able to provide a whole host of extreme notes together in a symphony of excess. Sikkim by Lancome (like Aramis and Miss Balmain before it) makes me feel as if I’m getting everything at once: sweetness, freshness, bitterness, richness, spiciness, warmth, and depth. The whole shebang. It starts off mouth-wateringly juicy and fresh, moves into a lush floral, and ends on an elegant, dry leather/moss accord.
Like Aramis (1965) and Miss Balmain (1967), Sikkim combines green and herbaceous top notes with lush florals (there’s gardenia in all three perfumes) and a mossy-leathery-ambery drydown that is both sexy and elegant. (Thujone, an ingredient in the hallucination-inducing drink Absinthe, is listed as a note for both Sikkim and Miss Balmain, and it’s basically a variety of Artemisia, which is a note in Aramis.)
There’s something about the gardenia/galbanum and coriander/Thujone/Artemisia and chypre-leather-amber combo that is lip-smacking good fun. It provides a rollercoaster ride for your nose (and your brain), maybe because your nose gets challenged to take in these wonderful extremes you wouldn’t find in nature. There must be something cognitively satisfying about having to work to understand what you’re smelling, as there is with music whose chord combinations just feel right. *
Sikkim’s bracing greenness offsets lush gardenia and makes it even sweeter and richer. For the longest time, the gardenia just lingers, its creamy-white petals offered up like a hallucination right in front of your nose. Its chypre-animalic drydown includes mossy/spiciness from patchouli, oakmoss and vetiver, while amber, castoreum and leather accords create a warming and comforting base. I’m enjoying the last remnants of the leather/moss drydown right now. Mmmmmm.
Sikkim is named after a tiny country in the Himalaya Mountains between Nepal, India, Bhutan and Tibet that became a state of India in 1974. Sikkim is supposed to have a climate that ranges “from arctic to temperate to tropical as a traveler journeys up or down the lofty Himalayas.” The climate of Sikkim, the perfume, similarly cycles from arctic to temperate to tropical as its wearer travels from its top notes to its base notes.
I'm reviewing the vintage parfum Sikkim, but there's a reformulated Sikkim that according to Fragrantica is part of Lancome’s “La Collection Fragrances” launched to celebrate Lancome’s 70th anniversary of perfumes. Several commenters have warned (not surprisingly) that the reformulated version doesn't hold a candle to the original and in fact smells too chemical. So if this review of Sikkim has piqued your interest, make sure you get your mitts on the old stuff...
I'll leave you with Sikkim's notes to compare with Aramis and Miss Balmain. I would say Sikkim is mossier than both Aramis and Miss Balmain. Other differences? It's not as skanky as Aramis, which has that wonderful stinky cumin note. Miss Balmain, on the other hand, is juicier/sweeter than Sikkim, from top to bottom. Sikkim has a momentary burst at the beginning and gets dryer and dryer. Just for the record, though, I wouldn't kick any of 'em out of bed!
Sikkim (1971)
Top notes: Thujone, gardenia, bergamot, galbanum, aldehyde
Heart notes: Jasmine, narcissus, rose, orris, carnation
Base notes: Patchouli, castoreum, vetiver, leather, amber, moss
Miss Balmain (1967)
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
Aramis (1965)
Top notes: Artemisia, aldehydes, bergamot, gardenia, green note, cumin
Heart notes: Jasmine, patchouli, orris, vetiver, sandalwood
Base notes: Leather, oakmoss, castoreum, amber, musk
* Rachel Herz talks in The Scent of Desire about our “nose brain” or rhinencephalon, the part of the brain that processes smells and emotions. I wonder if there's a purely cognitive part of this nosebrain that finds pleasure in teasing out the olfactory puzzle that perfumes create for us, a pleasure that has little to do with "emotion" or gut reactions, or maybe that creates a retroactive emotion as a result of the pleasure it had decoding the fragrance?
Ooh, I've just posted a (long) comment about Wrappings, and here is another scent that I got (Sikkim, new version).
Not sure about it yet - have to give it more testing time - but I was excited to see this review here.
cheerio, and I wish you all the best for 2011,
Anna in Edinburgh
Posted by: Anna in Edinburgh | December 26, 2010 at 12:43 PM
Hi Anna,
I'll have to try the new Sikkim, but you know how I feel about reformulations...:) All the best to you in 2011, too! (Can't believe it's upon us.)
Posted by: Perfumaniac | December 26, 2010 at 12:45 PM
"If it’s a green fragrance, I want it to be so green as to be bitter and slightly scary. If it’s a floral, I want it indolic, overripe, and decadent. If it’s animalic, I want…well, you get the picture." Exactly how I feel! :)
Posted by: Marina | December 26, 2010 at 03:27 PM
Hi Marina. Thanks for stopping by. I love your blog! I'm glad to hear you, too, are an Extreme Sniffer. :)
Posted by: Perfumaniac | December 26, 2010 at 04:27 PM
I know Lancome has recycled names for fragrances (ie Tresor) but I didn't realize they resued their bottle shapes as well...that one bottle in the ad looks a lot like Hypnose!
Posted by: Amy | December 29, 2010 at 01:54 PM
Hi Amy. That's the bottle for Magie. And you're right — totally recycled! I used that old ad because I couldn't find an original Sikkim ad... :(
Posted by: Perfumaniac | December 29, 2010 at 02:09 PM
Good afternoon,
I am wondering why the lovely perfume Sikkim from Lancome has stopped producing? I used to buy this perfume for at least twenty years maybe longer and suddenly somewhere in the eighties (last century) I couldn't buy it anymore and I had to look for replacements.Luckely for me I found it for some extra years in Zimbabwe, can you imagine, where I bought it till the moment they also couldn't sell it anymore.
But I am still fond of the smell that had suited me so well.
Since that time I use Coco Chanel and after Noa came with their eau de perfume I now decide which one I might use for the occasion or just for my daily "needs"!
Love to hear what the reason was not to continue and whether they used the ingredients in an other perfume later on.
Kind regards,
Marjo Spronk, Mrs.
Posted by: Mrs. Marjo Spronk, | May 02, 2013 at 06:00 AM