Femme has a long and storied history as Edmond Roudnitska's breakthrough chypre. According to legend, it was created in a dusty old warehouse that doubled as a lab in war-torn Paris, 1943. One imagines perfumer's alcohol being stored in used bottles of Vichy water, but I digress—one spray, and my first thought was, Mitsouko!
Except it's Mitsouko with warmth and carnality. Instead of Guerlain's laser-focused bergamot, I get cumin, fistfuls of cumin. There are conflicting accounts of how the cumin accord came to pass. Some sources claim that Olivier Cresp of Quest International singlehandedly added the cumin when Femme was reformulated and reissued in 1989, which led to Roudnitska crying, "They stole my Femme!" Other accounts suggest that Cresp worked closely with Roudnitska on the '89 formula, and that the Master Perfumer asked him to utilize a cumin accord similar to what Roudnitska had formulated decades earlier for Eau d'Hermès. I tend to think that this story makes more sense. Roudnitska was still working in the late '80s, and there's no reason why Cresp wouldn't have deferred to him. The cumin is both skanky and fresh; the citrus, bergamot and mandarin, smells rich and perfectly rounded, offsetting the sweaty spice just enough to keep the top of Femme smelling subversively French. Think freshly washed vagina in perfume form.
Armchair historians also claim the cumin was never in the original formula of Femme, but I'm not entirely sure that's accurate, either. There is no definitive description of the formula for Roudnitska's Femme, and given that he explored cumin as a "fresh" note, I wouldn't be surprised if 1940s bottles contained some. Perspectives on vintage Femme are somewhat indirect and inconclusive, and anything is possible. Once the superlatively spicy top begins to evaporate and melt into the aldehydes c-14, c-18, and the Prunol base, Femme gets very vintage Guerlain in vibe, and a familiar (and rudimentary) chypre accord emerges and dominates. Yet, where Mitsouko feels cold and aloof, Femme feels warm and personable. Mitsouko is a marble mausoleum in the misty woods of a forgotten cemetery; Femme is a hunter's blind at midnight in the same woods, with a roaring campfire illuminating a russet chiaroscuro of reds and browns and burnt greens. The chypre forest of Guerlain is haunted and silent, save for a subdued peach light from deep in the gloaming; the woods of Femme glow creamy and sweet, and are redolent of a post-summer harvest.
I own two bottles of Femme, both nearly identical to the version pictured above, with the only major differences being that mine have black caps, and their liquid is much darker. More of a reddish-brown than a golden amber. There is no oakmoss in either bottle, and I detect that a patchouli accord was used to compensate for its absence. My bottles are the 1989 formula, and the cumin is dirty, but good dirty, evocative of how women smell on an intimate level. Were Cresp and Roudnitska attempting to replicate the natural perfume of a young woman's loins? Seems like a "yes" to me. Having had my fair share of sensual encounters, I recognize, with some amusement, that the first 30 minutes of Femme nails her deep musk. Then Prunol steps forward, and the fruitiness of the composition explodes on skin, a veritable basket of plum, prune, peach, and apricot, with the zest of mandarin still whispering in the wings. The edibles are joined by flowers: of chief importance are Bulgarian rose, jasmine, ylang, and immortelle. The immortelle lends the heart a curried sweetness, not unlike raw honey. And, of course, there's labdanum.
In lieu of oakmossy powder, the base instead hews into cedarwood and birchwood, with a faint smoky angle from the birch, a brightness from the cedar, and that dollop of patchouli to smudge everything together. Benzoin and a dash of vanilla further cement the chypre structure, and Femme endures as a woody-sweet glow for well over 20 hours. This is a classic of French perfumery, ideal for cool autumn days and evenings. It's so good that if, like me, you are loath to replace your bottle of Mitsouko when it's finished, there is no cause for worry, for Femme is the sexier, friendlier, and more complex chypre.