Dior Sauvage Elixir — catering to the past; keeping it Sauvage
In September of 2015, Dior release Sauvage Eau de Toilette. For its sixth birthday, the house is releasing the third flanker. After the Eau de Parfum and Parfum, here comes the Elixir. A more concentrated version, sold in 60ml (2oz) bottles, at a premium.
Sauvage is everywhere. It was initially released to skepticism. Reviews were dismissive. An obvious rival to Chanel’s Bleu de Chanel, the precursor to a tidal wave of “blue” fragrances that would populate scented waters of the 2010s, Sauvage was late to the party. Six years later, it’s a mass market home run. The marketing campaign, starring Johnny Depp (before his, ahem, legal troubles), proved a huge hit, as did the Eau de Toilette itself. Naturally, flankers would follow. The Eau de Parfum, in particular, seems to enjoy the same kind of success.
The hype for this one had my curiosity piqued. Let me first say I don’t enjoy the EdT. Enough to have steered clear of EdP and Parfum. The “blue” shower gel combined with ambroxan was to my nose a horrific combination, an eerie reminder of my teenage years and school. Stuffy classrooms chock full of hormonal development, some students convinced showers were superfluous — or not yet acquainted with the merits of personal hygiene — generously spraying deodorant vanquished body odor in a pinch. It doesn’t.
Elixir opens spicy and sweet, the top notes well blended so that none is overpowering. Grapefruit, cardamom, and cinnamon are powerful notes which can easily take over a composition. The overall impression is sweet, spicy, and dense. It is thicker than the line’s traditional openings, heavier. Quite the departure from the fresh, peppery opening of the EdT and EdP.
The scent then moves on to something warm and smooth. The sweetness remains, but the spice takes a supporting role, happy to let other accords shine. I believe this may be the lavender popping in, smoothing the edges with a creamy aspect. Elixir is never a light scent, but despite shifting through different phases, does not get heavier. The lavender acts as a bridge between top and heart notes, mingling with the top, ensuring a mellow transition.
These two phases lasted perhaps 45 minutes on my skin. As they gradually dwindled, the heart notes slowly advance and settle to the fore. At this point, Sauvage is very recognizable. To me, the heart is Sauvage, that “blue”, shower gel DNA. It hums along for hours, and even in the very late drydown, can still be picked up.
It is in this moment I feel, when the top notes haven’t quite faded, the blue army’s dominance not quite complete, that the concept, the structure behind Elixir can be made out. Description as a “nu-fougère” is quite apt. A barbershop-type accord can be made throughout, mingling with the Sauvage DNA. The dry down, however, is a generic wood-amber and contains no moss accord (unless you’re Patricia de Nicolaï, a good oakmoss impression seems difficult of late), but that doesn’t detract my nose from understanding the scent as a modernized take on the fougère genre, with a blue shell to ensure popularity — This is a Sauvage flanker after all, and Demachy wouldn’t want to alienate the many fans of the line. Given the spicy and not herbal or floral opening, and the woody-amber as a base, one could conclude that the inspiration was of an oriental rather than barbershop fougère.
While flanked by blue, the dry down is quite different. The spicy top notes and creamy lavender have left the show. Some of the warmth returns in a warm woody-amber base, sweetened by what must be licorice, and accord I’m not familiar with. While perfectly inoffensive, this type of base has been a staple of masculine perfumery in the past decade. In the 1970s and 80s, people were perhaps equally fed up with the ubiquitousness of base notes like oakmoss (now IFRA restricted), sandalwood (overharvested, its synthetic counterparts poor replacements for the real stuff) and vetiver (this one still very much around). I long for the depth these basenotes give to the dry down of many classics of perfumery such as Hermès Equipage, Bel Ami, Chanel pour Monsieur and of course, Dior’s own 1966 masterpiece, Eau Sauvage.
This probably just means I’m a nostalgic, fossilizingly old geezer who needs to get on with the times.
I should mention that throughout the scent’s development, no ambroxan was detected. If it is in there, it’s well hidden. A Dior sales assistant told me — very assertively — it wasn’t part of the composition. If it’s been used, then it is with a light hand. Good news as far as I’m concerned, ambroxan being an aromachemical I struggle with. It is however an important player in the line’s identity, and a major reason for the EdT’s obnoxious projection. If those are things you enjoy in Sauvage EdT, be sure to sample Elixir before buying. Essentially an extrait de parfum (higher concentration than eau de toilette, eau de parfum and parfum, respectively), Elixir is certainly long lasting, but may project less than its older siblings (rest assured, it still projects).
I don’t think I’ll ever warm to blue fragrances. There’s something about an accord too reminiscent of shower gel. However, I’ll happily praise Elixir for its absence of ambroxan. I can also respect what Demachy did — his approach comes through, the fougère influence clear, but with numerous twists. Some — the spicy sweet, warm and creamy phases — I like, while others — the base — I do not.
Additional thoughts:
- A lot of people are praising the scent for out of this world performance. It performs well, true. It projects for quite a while, probably four to six hours, and as a skin scent, lasts a good deal longer. By the twenty-hour mark, what’s left on skin is a blue skeleton with hints of woody sweetness, nothing remotely recognizable (and not overly pleasant). A lot of fragrances perform similarly. There’s nothing extraordinary about it.
- I’ve read many reviews stating how much of a departure the scent is from the rest of the line. That it should have been its own thing, there’s nothing Sauvage about it.
If you’ve read this far, you’ll have guessed my take on it. It does things differently, there’s no discernible ambroxan, no pepper in the opening. This is not a fresh scent, which is a departure. But the Sauvage heart, its shower gel accord, is very much there. It appears after the first half hour and gradually gains traction, outliving the top notes and flanking a woody-amber base, growing fainter past the twelve hours mark.
This still is a Sauvage scent and if you didn’t like the line before, I doubt Elixir will turn you upside down.
- I have heard it said that this is a mature scent. Something for “older” people. Maybe the younger crowd is not well acquainted with the fougère genre. The problem, for me, is that the Sauvage DNA is the opposite, distinctly young. That doesn’t mean an older gent can’t wear Elixir, quite the contrary (and in any case, wear what you like). Some fougère wearing types will no doubt appreciate the novelty. It has a sporty feel and is not a dark fragrance, though the opening would suggest it is. The fougère elements might give it a slightly more austere style, compared to the EdT, but saying this is a mature fragrance is pushing it.
No screechy, peppery opening, no ambroxan. Still Sauvage. Which is what Demachy was going for, I believe. Not for me, but props to him. A well-made scent.
- At 180$ for a 2oz bottle, this isn’t cheap. Many niche and independent perfumes go way above, but who is the target demographic for Sauvage Elixir? Will perfume snobs, traditionalists and niche-wearing types be lured in by this new version? I am not convinced. It is perhaps more likely that Sauvage fans will be swayed by this new, upscale version. Time will tell if price is too much of a deterrent.
I won’t bet against Sauvage Elixir. If there’s anything to be learned from past iterations, it is that Dior and Demachy know the market and their audience.
The approach may seem both safe and risky. A blue heart is by now both popular and familiar. The line is a household name (and so is Johnny Depp, still the face of the line, the fragrance industry less fickle than its movie counterpart). The barbershop and oriental fougères haven’t been forgotten, but did lose much of their ubiquity in the past two decades. By combining the two, is Demachy creating the ultimate masculine scent, a trendsetter and instant classic? Or is the Elixir an anachronistic paradox, heart in the present, skin in the past?
