Gold Woman
Amouage (1983)

Gold Woman is the souped up, Russian gilt, bells-and-whistles version of Madame Rochas, which basically means that it is an amalgamation of all those perfumes that we tend to instinctively classify as stuffy, perfumey, French and ladylike – you know, perfumes like No. 5 (Chanel), Calèche (Hermès), and Climat (Lancôme). I’d throw 24, Faubourg (Hermès) into the mix there too.

I could try to describe the common thread here – the fatty, fizzy aldehydes that strafe the expensive, Grasse-sourced florals like a steel wire brush, sending them spinning up and out like a ballerina’s tulle mid-pirouette, the silky musks, the powdered rush of floral bouquets – but with something this abstract, I’d only be embarrassing myself.

Because, honestly, let’s get real – much of what we say we smell in fragrances this big is probably just a figment of our imagination, suggested to us by reviews or ad copy. Perfumes this abstract, this overly-blended, this fuzzy-with-kinetic-aldehydes can never give anyone a clear idea of any one material, be it a lush rose or the hay-like greenness of narcissus. Most of us are not in possession of a nose sophisticated enough to pick up on every nuance or note in something like Gold Woman. If you think that it smells expensive (it does) or like what a rich woman might wear (it does), then the perfumer has gotten his point across. I’d argue – strenuously, if you ever met me in person – that what you are smelling in Gold Woman is pretty much the scent of a luxuriously creamy bar of white soap, and specifically the kind that nobody buys for themselves and is far too good to use.

My mother was gifted a L’Air du Temps bath soap when I was little, and that soap remained perched on the edge of the family bath, in its delicate seashell-shaped clasp, for all of our childhood, as if silently daring us to touch it. Which we never did, of course, because the hairs on the back of my mother’s neck were psychically connected to this soap, standing on end and raising the alarm if one of us even so much as breathed in its general direction. I would only dare huff it quickly and furtively, panic-dropping it back in its seashell every time the landing floor squeaked (our Famine-era house was about as suited to privacy as it was to central heating, which is to say not very). Anyway, I remember distinctly the first time I smelled Amouage Gold Woman. It was January 2012 in one of the larger Campo Marzio 70 stores in Rome, and I had just started to read blogs, so I recognized the name and the look of the bottle. I picked up the gold bottle with trembling hands, scarcely believing that the salespeople would just let me pick up something so precious and sprayed a bit on my wrist. Well, if it wasn’t that fucking L’Air de Temps soap. Hello again, how nice to see you.

None of which explains, of course, how I now own two bottles of Gold Woman. I guess my defense is really a theory, namely that if cityscapes shape the style of those that live in them, then Rome, where I was living when I bought the second and equally non-essential bottle of it, with its status as the erstwhile center of the Western world, expects of her citizens a similarly-outsized sense of braggadocio. While I still don’t really like Gold Woman all that much, I find it has the big dick energy that a place like Rome demands. Every time I wear it, I feel like Juno emerging angrily from her bath, left breast magnificently exposed, pumped to give the first man she encounters a heart attack or a hard-on (we are never sure which).

Lovely, but yes, this is very, very close to Madame Rochas. Gold is crisper with a stronger lily than MR, which has a stronger oak moss base. My MR is vintage, so the lily has probably degraded and the oak moss will be more present than a current version, which I have not sampled. Gold is fabulous, but for the price, try Madame Rochas before you spend the money for Gold.

First scenting was with an 80's sample.
First impression was "Madame Rochas in her evening gown bejeweled"
Civet,Ambergris and White Musk are blended in such a way as to support the heart's bouquet and provide a sly animalic. It is "weightier" than Contemporary formulations. More on that later.
Classic dance with Sandalwood and Rose which combined with Iris presents a Powdered Savon. Lovely!
Interesting is the topping of Muguet which offers a freshness and green nuance which in turn provides a gentle
backstop to the powder. Now the Diamonds and Pearls. This is provided by the Incense. Myrrh, for me, acts in the horizontal therefore a matte of earthy resin. The Frankincense, for me,acts in the vertical, therefore a mild Citric and ethereal airiness. The resins working together have my brain cells registering a tinkle-tinkle that brings me to a Magic Orgasmic.
A Robert masterpiece.
More later on the Contemporary Amouage formulation and a Generic oil
interpret.
Later.
Contemporary still remains as a remarkable scent. There is the Robert finesse with updated ingredients. The Synth Musk is stronger and almost throws the balance.There is a slight Ambroxan rush. The original seems to have used a quality Ambergris. Most of us oldsters will miss the original animalic. The youngsters will appreciate the lighter presentation.

The Generic Oil is very good, however lacks the studied structure of the Vintage.

Madame Rochas is a beautiful scent and Vintage Gold offers an excellent build upon the MR beauty. All formulates are Genderless to my taste.

Gold is a beautiful fragrance with a vintage feel. It's great and sexy to wear. But it doesn't tell me a story so far. I find it a bit boring.
Very Amouage for sure.

Gorgeous!

Based on the reviews and my life long love for Chanel no. 5 I was expecting to like this, and boy, do I!

It's a big, sophisticated, unapologetically glamorous super floral that envelops me in a golden cloud wherever I go. Some people describe it as very formal; a scent to wear when wrapped in furs on the way to the opera, but I can wear this anywhere, even when in tattered jeans and a t-shirt while doing the weekly grocery run. It provides instant fabulousness to the mundane, but it also has a bright, energetic, exuberant side that keeps to from going too serious for me.

For those who complain that modern day formulations lack strength, give this a try. 3 sprays will radiate a good few meters all day long. I can still smell it on a dress I've worn days ago when I enter my closet.

This has signature scent potential.

Edit: I've managed to find a bottle of this for about a third of the retail price. Good times!

I have been wearing this crossover for more than fifteen years mainly because it is so utterly beautiful and it happens to work particularly well with my skin-type. Such is the power of the sillage that I started getting the occasional odd look. To combat this I have started applying it beneath my underwear so that in a daytime business meeting no-one can be entirely sure where the scent is coming from, that is other than from underneath the boardroom table!
The other day a vendeur in Harrod's mentioned that some of the old empty Amouage bottles are now becoming collectable and that the rarer ones now sell for hundreds of dollars. If this is true then what great news!