Carnal Flower achieves both in stellar fashion. And even so, intriguing and sublime creative pursuits necessarily require brilliance on a technical level to indeed be successful and beautiful. Rather, I like to imagine that there’s a rationale for such intensity and overloading, and such an operation can only stem from technical brilliance. It’s an opulent work, perhaps Malle’s most overtly opulent tied with Portrait of a Lady, and yet it seems utterly impossible that its intensity is a result of a sort of some creative unthink or methodical anarchism (resulting in a maximalist work) on Ropion’s part as a creator. There is something disturbing about this – as if profanity has been gussied up, but that’s what makes Carnal flower indefatigably beautiful as a thinker’s work. The tuberose flower is wrangled and metamorphosed in the work, compounded with the milky and tropical impressions of fig, coconut, and ylang-ylang, and then there are those flecks of camphoraceous tones licked with a greenness, fleshiness, and salinity. One might seem outward and social, but there’s a depth and complexity that demands gentle reflection. I like this quality because it reflects me. There’s equally much to be said about Carnal Flower not by the length or contents of its rather gregarious sillage, but by sitting with it and observing its little echoes. Its secretive dimension requires a fine measure of judgment. This is, plainly put, clever, and ultimately very enjoyable.īut this is an explication of Carnal Flower’s outward appearance. And in that way, its contrasts are innate – tuberose contrasts itself, for freshness meets subtle rot, and the clean natural white of the note is struck with an unusual accord – all to be found within the tuberose note.

The contents of these fragrances are defined by showcasing the outwards aroma of tuberose, but also lifting its undertones sufficiently. Criminelle has the camphoraceous touch of blood, the singing green of hyacinth, the tiger balmy wintergreen, and salicylates too. Carnal has eucalyptus, the sweetly not-yet-rotten aroma of melon, and salicylates. One must also consider my other tuberose love, Tubereuse Criminelle, which has the same blueprint as Carnal Flower in terms of its content: the fleshy white, slightly stinky note of tuberose flower (bolstered with further flowers and fragrant blossoms), synergistically paired with an unusual tertiary aroma. The search is over, now that I have realised that Carnal Flower contains a eucalyptus note which is so obviously present yet so functional at the same time.

And for the longest time now I have actively looked for a eucalyptus scent. That might be the secret for me – I adore eucalyptus passionately, insofar I intend to one day fill my dream house with Diptyque’s Eucalyptus candle in each and every room. It has tremendous sillage – a sort that hosts a thickly layered yet tightly packed mille feuille effect of white flowers ultimately heralding tuberose, then rubbing that with a layer of the spicy, slightly rubbery green note of eucalyptus. I feel that it suits me because it has two personas at once, one more secretive and private than the other.Ĭarnal Flower’s more obvious facet is the Ropion trademark of aura and presence. I have worn it so much that I have drained at least 30mLs of it since I received a bottle of it in September. A bit of Jicky, lots of Vol de Nuit, a handful of summertime colognes … But, Carnal Flower is decidedly my new and most worn smell, and it’s delightful. Since my last post in October I have had a fairly unadventurous time.

Frederic malle carnal flower