Vanilla Era (2023)

How do pines smell? Lush, old pines, resinous and gnarled, exude a characteristic scent, especially when the sun hits them (for me, a nostalgia bomb times 1000, aka camping-with-parents scent). Woody-fresh, green, wonderfully bitter and somehow cooling-fresh, with a lovely citrus note in between. Especially when the summer sun hits the branches, a distinctive aroma develops, as a balsamic, resinous sweetness usually joins in. I associate the scent with shimmering hot air that almost tastes sweet. Well, under the aforementioned pine tree is my folding chair this morning. It’s still a cool morning, and here under the pines it’s minty-fresh, the old and dry pine needles beneath me on the ground already releasing their scent as you step on them, the scent of summer by the Mediterranean, albeit still faint. The tips of the pine have been hit by the already warming sun for half an hour and begin to lay their fragrant mist over the area. I’m still a bit chilly from the night in the tent, so I throw on a sweater and put the kettle on the small gas stove to brew some tea. No tea bag? No problem! A bit of fresh mint in the cup, a slice of lemon for that Mediterranean feel, and a touch of decadence is also necessary: a thick spoonful of honey goes in. Voila, now I sit here with my cup and wiggle my toes in delight in my colorful flip-flops. Pierre Guillaume has the talent to empathetically reinterpret scents and fragrance notes. Not reinventing the wheel, but taking what exists and giving it a unique perspective like an impressionist. He lets us see or rather smell his world as he wants us to perceive it. Here too is a Mediterranean landscape painting, but instead of the same old “realistic” landscape of citrus, herbs, wood, fir, and optionally aquatic or sweet notes, Mr. Guillaume takes the pine, breaks it down olfactorily into its components, and reassembles it in his own way. The sweet-resinous quality of the tree sap becomes a toothsome amber-colored sweet honey, the citrus elements of the pine needle aroma are brought to the forefront by the citrus accords, the bitter cold and dark green are represented by the minty freshness, the wood itself? Elegantly restrained in the base. An impressionistic olfactory painting of a pine by the master himself, or perhaps my morning with tea under the pines, who knows.

I absolutely love the brand and its creativity which I position among the top ones in perfumery overall. Now I get why people are reminded of "Fille en Aiguilles" but perhaps my nose is simplifying a bit on this one so here's my take: I recognize a lightweight version of the sweeter batches of a popular citrus-woody DNA that starts with "A", manufactured by "C".. the turning point however is how Pierre Guillaume (which I met and am a total fan of) is capable of rephrasing this DNA into something so different each time while keeping the general impact. In fact this is not the first time he has attempted this in my opinion: I had the same impression with Itabaia and Aqaysos, where a small portion of this DNA has been carefully studied and rephrased to become its very own masterpiece. This is what happens in Morning in Tipasa and the genius touch is the very weak performance that exudes so many nuances that get lost in the original or other iterations of the same DNA (of other brands) while benefiting the trail that you leave when moving, people kept asking me my perfume name! - A citrusy cedarwood on a mellow base of honey with vetiver nuances? Definitely added to my wish list! Updated on 03/18/2025

Boy this smells good. Lemongrass is the dominant note, and I love it. But jeez, this starts dissipating and losing power almost instantly. I only got around 5-10 minutes of real projection, afterwards it's a skin-scent only, and then even that fades quick. I'm on the fence about a purchase, because it's a beautiful smell, but just hard to justify the money given it disappears so fast. Might give it a few more tests and will adjust this review if merited. June 2025 UPDATE: Combined this one day with Molecule 01 (ISO-E Super) to see if that would project better, and it did. My coworker commented from 10 feet away how nice my office smelled (like lemon cleaner she said). Problem is, I couldn't smell a thing. While it's nice to have others compliment you, if you can't smell it yourself, that's at least half the fun. Given the expensive price tag and the fact that I'd have to hassle with combining it with something to project, I'm gonna have to pass. April 2026 UPDATE: Here in Los Angeles we are turning the corner into spring, with the weather heating up. Breaking back out my two warm-weather freshies, Acqua di Giò Elixir and Escentric 05 I was disappointed in them, so revisited some old samples and tried Morning in Tipasa again. Was reminded of just how amazing I think this scent smells. I get the mint more strongly now. But I'd say the fragrance is well-blended and the mint, lemongrass, and pine all combine to create one stellar overall scent. Stately but still casual, exceedingly pleasant. Indeed, not to be too dramatic, but this smells like my IDENTITY. If I could capture how I feel about myself in an olfactory experience, this is the scent I'd want to represent me. At this point, I just have to have it in my collection, despite its longevity and projection limitations. But it's worth noting that this time around, perhaps I did a better job of applying it to my pulse points, because both longevity and projection seemed a little better than my earlier review (though still modest). Plus, I now realize all warm-weather freshies are light and have mild projection. This is a versatile scent that will be excellent for spring, summer, and fall. Ordered a full bottle and am excited! Updated on 04/04/2026

Albert Camus' essay 'Noces à Tipasa' (circa 1936), Pierre Guillaume's inspiration for 7.2 Morning in Tipasa, provides a landscape portrait of the Algerian coastal town of Tipasa, overflowing with olfactory impressions, along with its surroundings. An almost too inviting text for a perfume. Right from the first page, it speaks of lush aromatic plants, the intoxicating heat of the Algerian summer by the Mediterranean, before Camus gets specific: bougainvilleas, hibiscus, tea hybrid roses, irises, mastic trees, broom plants, geraniums, heliotrope, and time and again Artemisia absinthium: wormwood, absinthe leaves. Always accompanied by coastal breeze and sun. At least in the official notes, none of this can be found; what is mentioned here is: "Wild Lemongrass, Peppermint, Mediterranean Pine, Bergamot, Jujube Tree Honey." Lemongrass, presumably also wild, and jujube I would have rather expected from Malaysia eastwards, but overall what Guillaume proposes here is coherent. Coastal coniferous forest, minty, herbal-aquatic start, followed by plenty of pine and traces of honey, all in a light manner. I am still not very familiar with the work of the originally full-time Michelin chemist. The fact that his production facility, like Michelin in the Auvergne, is located in Clermont-Ferrand is charming, as is the idea of subjecting his own scents to an in-house remix - the 7.2 in the title is meant to refer to the predecessors 7.1 and 7. However, I am not sure how much of a self-remix or a style transfer is present here. 7.2 Morning in Tipasa, reminiscent of the honey/pine combination - as already observed by AugustA - is similar to Fille en Anguilles (2009), or rather a finer, aquatic dilution of it. 'Mediterranean Pine Forest' is, like aquatic, a perennial favorite and an unattainable figment of perfumers, fine as applied. I haven't been wandering through Mediterranean pine forests for quite some time, but often find myself in Atlantic ones, and I am always blown away by the complexity and lightness of these. Besides the predominantly involved beach pines & co., it is also the sum of the other grasses, shrubs, rocks, and sediment that make it all. Lutens' coniferous forest is camp; it is clearly a confessional perfume and not a bottled landscape. Morning in Tipasa is also perfume, but the much more subdued dosage here makes the difference; mint and honey (which Guillaume has already skillfully used in 25 Indochine) indeed create something that resembles slowly withering near the sea without drifting deeply into the aquatic, here from the other side of the Mediterranean. Approximately 810 km is the distance from Tipasa to the Corsican Scandola Peninsula, as the crow flies. I have to think distantly of its warm herbal aquaticity; 7.2 employs similar softeners, albeit less differentiated. 3134 km, by car, via Paris, is the route from Tipasa to Blenheim Castle. If the aforementioned softener or photographic bokeh were to be significantly overstated again, there are also trace elements of the journey Paris - Edinburgh, which never quite made it to Scotland, but at least arrived in the bouquet of the castle. And, to return once more to AugustA's aptly compact outline, this reduced, simpler volume suits the perfume excellently, a deliberately staged honey-resinous pine, with minimal green-aquatic details.

Morning in Tipasa is for AugustA a bit like the PG version of Lutens "Fille en Aiguilles". Fresher, sweeter, not so serious. The morning variant perhaps takes place while the Lutens is in the Mediterranean late afternoon sun for me. Both, however, are in the pine forest with the fragrant resin that is so warm and so refreshing. A zesty warm summer/autumn/late summer pine scent. Seemingly simple, but very convincing.