Quartz
Molyneux (1977)

An excellent late 70s feminine, quite similar to Chanel Cristalle EDT but perhaps not similar enough to be redundant in a collection. This one leans a little more floral and a bit less citrusy but feels just as invigorating as Henri Robert's classic. Getting a strong jasmine and oakmoss complemented by honeysuckle and rose, with melon and peach providing some refreshing, bright fruitiness and being reminiscent of Roudnitska's work. There's a nice touch of carnation which feels smooth rather than peppery and adds a satisfying fullness to the composition. Lovely gentle woodiness in the dry down. Delightful stuff on a hot Summer's day!

Comfortably unisex and seems underappreciated.

Like Tchaikovsky, who used a folk tune in his bombastic piano concerto, Chaillan picks up Diorella's ripe melon and moulds it to his own needs.
He sets it to a dry spicy carnation, smooth white citric honeysuckle and sharp hyacinth, softened with peachy rose and amber.

Although the melon - unlike Tchaikovsky's quotation - is more conventional that the avant-garde experiment by Roudnitska (less fruit market trash but still a bit queasy and very musky) it shows that Chaillan was no Yes man; and with Opium, YSL pour Homme, Anaïs Anaïs and Givenchy III to his name (not to mention Ho Hang, Monsieur Carven and the ground breaking Bleu Marine) no one would think of this obscure talent as just another nose.

Quartz is not a famous masterpiece, and it's not as bombastic as Opium (which he completed the same year, at the same time as Expression for Jacques Fath - which links Aromatics Elixir with the rose chypres of the 80's) but it would be churlish to cry that Quartz is derivative when it was passing over his desk at the same time as one of the greatest perfumes ever conceived.

With the Tchaikovsky composition, the important thing isn't the folk tune but the concerto of which it's a part. And in the same way, even if Quartz refers to Diorella in one direction, and hints at Mitsouko in another, while showing traces of Opium, it remains its own woman.

And just as there's ballet music in Tchaikovsky's concerto, Quartz moves with subtle grace under its eye catching exterior.

Quartz is suggestive of its name, cool stone, perhaps by a babbling brook, amongst dewy foliage under the morning sun. It is green but also just a shade sweet, crisp peaches and melons seasoned with bitter boxwood and cassis. If effervescence and powdery mossiness could fit into the same room, it would be Quartz. They fit, they mingle, they shake hands, embrace, and then realize they need to turn out the lights.

Firmly unisex, an unsuspecting gentleman might come across this handsome bottle with no indication of gender (until its latter iterations where "femme" would be added), ponder its whirlpool vortex cap and sleek modernism and smell it, thinking to himself, "mmm, Eau Sauvage with added dimension and swagger? Don't mind if I do." No matter what the gender, Quartz exudes an understated sophistication underlined by its earthy, woody, outdoorsy dry down. Man, the 70s were a great time for fragrance. A hidden gem.

I own a mini bottle and a sample vial, no idea of the decade of either.

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Fresh, somewhat soapy, complex and quite alive.

I am having a hard time discerning the specific notes here. This is a good thing! This is one of those perfumes where the notes mix together seamlessly and create a beautiful abstract whole.

To my untrained nose, this is like a sort of soapy Chypre. Feminine but still abstract, mossy and floral, serene but complex. Understated but not linear. A bit old-fashioned but in a good way... And very very wearable. Office-friendly, child-appropriate and adult women-appropriate as well. I only own a mini, but if I had a full size I could see it becoming a workhorse in my daily perfume rotation.

I can smell the carnation, the moss, something vaguely soapy and warm and a delicious, warm human musk base.

Good and enjoyable.

Summer's here, again, and since I live in Texas, it's time to break out some freshies. I get bored with citrus, I don't have much use for aquatics, and sweetness generally does nothing for me, so freshies usually mean green fragrances in my world. And--I have no idea why this is--something about summer calls for cheap'n'cheerful fragrancewise, the equivalent of a glass of Pinot Grigio consumed in a plastic goblet on the patio, preferably next to a body of water. I put my bottle (and box) of Quartz in the fridge, where it waits to add a slice of cool to our near-endless summer. Time, and lots of sniffing, has only deepened my appreciation of this perfume. It's a most agreeable companion during a time of year when my nerves are easily frayed.

Here's the review I wrote last year, in 2016. I stand by everything I say there. I should also note that I get pretty decent longevity for 26 bucks. And I need to buy a backup or two . . . .

No doubt the Quartz that Molyneaux sells today (for some of the cheapest prices known to humankind) is a shadow of its former self, whatever that might have been. I'm guessing, from its release date (1977) and its note pyramid (citrus/light fruit-green floral-patchouli), that it fell along the axis of Diorella (but cheaper), Cristalle (but friendlier) and Eau de Rochas (but fruitier)--tart on top, funky on bottom, refreshing and tres chic, the kind of juice that goes with a pair of Jackie O sunglasses and a pair of white trousers. Or maybe I've seen too many Diorella ads. Anyway--

Despite intervening years and changing tastes, it seems that Molyneaux have opted to keep the basic idea of Quartz more or less the same. I'm sure only the cheapest possible version of each aromamaterial goes into the mix, but at least it still exists. And once you lay it on (with a trowel, really, because between the skimpy formula and the lousy sprayer, you have to work on this a little), there really is reason to celebrate its existence. It's like someone pried the top off Diorella--that inimitable hit of 7UP, lime, honeydew, and black pepper--then wiped off the aquatics, and then punched up the crispness even more while somehow rounding out the fruit. This must have been really great back in the day . . . .

Still, it's so nice to have something in the collection that smells this good without a trace of sugar, vanilla, tonka, or benzoin. This is bracing, it's crisp, it's bitter, and it feels great when it's hot outside. Unfortunately, the advertised patchouli only whispers its presence: the structure of this fragrance, such as it is, feels like it comes from a little moss, maybe. Otherwise, it doesn't really go anywhere after those opening notes. But in serious heat, who cares? You just spray more on to add another level of refreshment. At under 30 bucks a bottle, you can do whatever you want with this stuff. I anchor it with a good vetiver to add structure. And I just keep on spraying.

Top: Lemon, Mandarin, Bergamot, Grapefruit. Middle: Iris, Jasmine, Lily of the Valley, Honeysuckle, and Rose. Base: Vetiver, Sandalwood, Patchouli, and Tyrolean Moss. Crush leaves

A vintage sample:

A mildly citrus-backed bergamot opening merges soon with the floral heart notes, of which I mainly get muguet, jasmine and a somewhat synthetic chevrefeuille. The sweetness is kept under control well and it is never too overwhelming or cloying.

This is a well-blended composition, and this is also my impression of the base notes, which have a woodsy impression combined with a light patchouli on a green background. I do not regards this base as that of a true chypre, but more that if a watered-down and softened-up pseudo-chypre, and the typical contrast is completely absent; all the stages run smoothly into each other. This is a soft scent.

The sillage is poor and the projection also very limited. The scent starts all right but it collapses on my skin after the first half hour; but nonetheless it remains present very close to my skin for a total of seven hours - a very respectable longevity.

All in all I am not convinced it deserves a positive score, but is comes close to it. Nice in spring. 2.25/5