Bijan by Bijan

@catheantonia, of course we are not talking about the same scent. The one described here and known by those who own it is genuine. It does not smell like dessert, fruit, or floral tea; it is a jewel of perfumery. If you are looking for what the previous reviewers say, this is one of them. So I support you: we must celebrate that you were deceived, but only by five dollars, and that you were deceived, there is no doubt.

It’s not rare to see the different archetypes of woman Bijan advertised: the mother, the femme fatale, the naked woman, the working girl à la The Arms of Woman… In the end, they wanted to say this perfume was for every kind of woman; Bijan was for whoever fell in love with it. But they did have a common thread: it wasn’t for timid ladies. It wasn’t that it was a jam of sweet honey and resins, though it might seem so, but Bijan was almost a masculine perfume. The woman wearing it didn’t have two eggs hanging down, because she had them tucked inside. Bijan is an essential of the 80s and I love it: being overwhelming and powerful, it’s a super austere perfume, with a terrifyingly earthy and natural mysticism. It has an ultra-rough talcum coating; it smells like a powder compact re-stoked in a 1987 flat, like a Pravia Hay tablet incorruptible for thirty years, a place bottled with incredible evocative capacity. My review is of a version from about thirty years ago, and I can testify it was a nuclear bomb. Be careful, don’t think of the 80s intoxicating floral and wood perfumes or floral orientals; there’s nothing of Poison or LouLou here. Bijan is a talcum with a cat-tongue texture, acrid, cardboard-like and pot-bellied, a kilo-strong talcum where classic French notes like carnation, ylang, amber and jasmine predominate, as if preserved in paraffin or acrylic, resisting time. Something similar to a functional, rural and abstract formula from classic French soap-making, but with the typical smell of a ruthless 80s millionaire, with its animal thing and ultra-powerful aura. It has lots of luxury and power, of 80s skyscrapers and shopping galleries, but curiously it’s a functional and sober perfume, because it’s a luxury soap, but richer in nuances. It lists vanilla and honey, but don’t be fooled by the card; there isn’t a drop of sweetness here, only a faint tone of waxy, almost imperceptible fecal note in the heart phase, with flashes of a very timid, treacherous floral thing from jasmine and narcissus. Bijan makes you think of a leaden, grey beach, a modern Hamptons house, with a wild storm shaking the scrub while some woman who no one tells what to do takes a black coffee on her glassed-in porch. Bijan speaks of empowerment (what a horrible word), of women who don’t want to be princesses and who, if you say ‘darling’ to them, will punch you. Today it’s very masculine. I’ve read somewhere it’s been tampered with and isn’t even a shadow of what it was; the current one has lost its punch and fat and smells very artificial, and it’s no surprise seeing how former best-sellers go into decline and sell for two pounds. Imagine a Chanel No. 5, a Madame Rochas, a First or a Fidji imbued with the most sinister and artistic 80s power. Bijan was like eating a tablet of sandalwood soap and clay and flowers and injecting it straight into the vein, dry as dust. A real gem.

A perfume with all the personality of the 80s, strong, complex, imposing, very far from the current fashion of fruity-chilli and sweet gourmand perfumes; here sweetness is just one facet, complemented by amber, and I miss the sandalwood wood greatly. A true classic that earned its place by hard work; it’s delicious and intense. Definitely not something I feel is youthful; it’s for a woman who doesn’t mind being the centre of attention. Very good trail, lasting longevity.

It is an exquisite and fine fragrance, nothing like the current offering. It is floral, ambered, powdery, and woody, with a fine honey, nothing common or vulgar like today’s ‘sexy’ ones. It is a classy classic that inspires one to behave accordingly, with appropriate doses for the occasion. Like the fines, it has restraint and excellent quality; its trail is moderate to heavy and its longevity is long. I recommend it totally for cold weather and night. It is a beauty forgotten by time, so its price is well below its great quality and the high luxury of the house. Totally recommended to try on skin.

Honey and amber at their finest! Bijan moves away from the 80s chypres to embrace a floral oriental. The honey is narcotic, spiced and balsamic thanks to the benzoin and tonka bean. Vanilla gives it that gluttonous, sweet air, while ylang-ylang and sandalwood seal the deal. In short, honey, amber and vanilla are the stars. As it warms up, the citrus side becomes more noticeable. The floral, the carnation, stays very quiet compared to the rest. This is the current formula; I haven’t got hold of the vintage. A top choice for lovers of amber and vanilla scents. Bijan is far more interesting than Chopard’s Casimir.