Y’know, I’m of two minds about Guerlain’s Joyeuse Tubéreuse.
On one hand, Joyeuse Tubéreuse is undeniably gorgeous. It’s part of Guerlain’s L’Art et La Matiere line, each of which exists to celebrate a particular material in perfumery. They’re inarguably beautiful (hence L’Art), and since they’re using high quality materials (hence La Matiere), they’re set at price points that’ll having you clutching your pearls. As developed by Thierry Wasser and Delphine Jelk, Joyeuse Tubéreuse is about as fresh and friendly a tuberose as you could get. The opening green notes have a wet, almost muguet-like quality to them, the lily and jasmine sambac at the heart tailor the tuberose until but a little bit of butteriness remains, and the vanilla in the base adds enough enough sweetness to make the whole thing nectarous yet never cloying. There’s supposedly vetiver and sandalwood there, too, but they’re the Victorian children of this composition: better seen than heard. There’s nary a hint of indole or headiness to the thing, so It feels a too bit sexless to be a proper tribute to tuberose, but it’s really pretty, and let’s be honest: sometimes that’s enough.
For as lovely as Joyeuse Tubéreuse is, and as much as I love its loveliness, the price point really sticks in my craw. I’ve only amassed my fragrance collection by being a stingy bitch who only buys on deep discount, so I tend to start squirming when a fragrance costs over $50, and I really blanche when it’s above $100. That perfume either needs to be singularly delicious or discontinued to justify spending any more. That, or you need Tom Ford’s marketing team, which played me like a fiddle the fall they released Fucking Fabulous, but I digress.
My point is Joyeuse Tubéreuse is absolutely worth seeking out a sample of, but $260 is an awful lot of money to sink on a pretty yet rather tame tuberose perfume. Gucci Bloom plays that same tuberose/jasmine song well enough for a fraction of the cost, and Xinú’s OroNardo–while still expensive–is to my nose a far more breathtaking rendition. And really, just as tuberose is the flower for sluts, so too am I a slut for tuberose, so is it too much to ask for a perfume that gives my favorite skanky flower that old-school Guerlain touch?
I’d pay good money for that.