N'Aimez Que Moi
Caron (1917)

I applied N'Aimez Que Moi EDP and started listening to a French Horn solo Spotify playlist, as for some reason, it reminds me of the horn's plangent timbre. The open phrase is classic Caron, feeling like a glade within a dense, mossy forest, moths fluttering feebly on wild herbs, and the distant plaintive cries of a rose among consoling sweet violet and clove-shaded lilac. "Dry your eyes" they say, in the powdered, cloudy, misty daydream glade.

The rose, now upraised, disperses the mist with its own song, "Love Only Me." The clouds part just somewhat and rays shine down, the french horn echoes into the forest. The rose is now joined by the chorus of the woods, the arching cedars genuflect, and the refrain sings, "we will reunite my love, and all will be well." This smells of one of the truest roses, if only for a short, magical time, until the wooded chorus sends it to a blissful sleep.

This may prove to be far too precious, antique and fusty to all but the connoisseur, but I happen to find it absolutely faultless. It's poetry.

For me, this was love at first sniff, and the feeling has stayed for more than a decade. Several reviewers have mentioned its "old lady" connotations. Well, this old lady absolutely loves it! I really don't think that's a good way to describe any scent, because tastes will always vary, no matter what one's age, but when it's applied to a classic like this, it is a backhanded compliment. It signifies that N'Aimez Que Moi is a beautiful, other-worldly fragrance which has stood the test of time. The rose and violet opening notes are soon joined by delicate lilac, yet you can still smell each one distinctly, and when the cedar and vanilla emerge to darken the floral accord they add to the sense of mystery this perfume conveys. The notes of sandalwood and civet anchor the scent, while musk contributes to the overall dreamy feel. I have the EdP and have not tried the extrait, but it's on my list. I hope they never stop making it, although it seems as though Or Et Noir has disappeared, so if you love any Carons, better get backups.

At first the whump of the hefty Caron base (deep, powdery-resinous) masks the floating quality of N'Aimez que Moi. Then there is the ferocity of clove and something like the brambly undergrowth from Malle's Une Rose that also make it appear to be more of a drama queen than it is.
But wait a short while and the rose, liquered, a bit musty but also powdery soft, wafts its magic gathered in clumps of cloudy violets and lilac. A touch of fatty, waxy orris gives it a discreet sheen. I find violets often give perfumes a watercolour, daydream-like quality – perhaps it's because their scent seems so borderless and diffuse – and that is certainly the case here. Later the base re-emerges, but gently, a pillow to lean back on, giving the florals a touch of earth.
If you have a tendency to dismiss this kind of perfume as old-fashioned and fusty, then N'Aimez que Moi will do nothing to change it. For the rest of us, it is a quiet pleasure, rich yet restrained about it.

Review is for the current EDP formulation.

A wonderful powdery Bulgarian Rose, surrounded by iris and violet. This lovely creation from 1917 is typical of what reviewers now call "old lady," with its heavy emphasis on potpourri florals (others have detected cedar, jasmine, lilac). The oakmoss support is also rounded out with notes that have been identified as: civet, sandalwood, amber, musk, vanilla.

This is truly old fashioned and set in its time. It is one of the best rose scents available today.

One of my all-time favourite scents, and one I'd never want to be without. The opening of cedar and rose, quite dark and mysterious, like a half-hidden path through the woods, and then the swelling of yet more rose, this time with iris and violet, and something I can't identify; and finally the deep Caron base with its civet and oakmoss (which presumably is now tree moss, because of IFRA regs). You wear this perfume like a voyage of discovery. First, the cedars and wild roses shade your way through the forest, and then you discover the violets and irises blooming amongst the undergrowth. All the while, the civet and musk base draw you deeper and deeper into the woods, until you are almost lost. But the beautiful rose and violet notes act like Ariadne's thread, so that you never actually lose your way as you press forward all the way to the forest edge.
On me, both extrait and EdP last several hours.
Yes, it's old-fashioned in a good way, reminding me of the beautiful art nouveau jewelry and lace-bedecked clothes of the Edwardian era. It brings a touch of that lost world of quality and manners into our hectic 21st century lives. I have both the extrait and the EdP, and whenever I wear them I'm taken back in time to that more gracious era. If you appreciate vintage and classic scents, this is definitely one to try.

The heart of this vintage is the rose. But it does not sit alone. Violet, lilac & iris are listed but as support players they exist as nuances, and are not quite as easily identifiable as the central rose accord. To smell the rose, one has to get really close to the skin. It is a deep dark rose with a slight metallic tinge, certainly not of the dewy-fresh, budding variety. I'm testing the parfum which has depth to spare and unveils each layer at its own languid pace.

While I wouldn't exactly describe this bouquet as 'fusty', the freshly powdered aura represents a style that was popular in that era but may well be viewed as 'out of its time' particularly by a generation raised on a diet of 'instant gratification'. A true fragrance connoisseur however will have much less of a problem appreciating this composition from Ernest Daltroff.