White Linen (Estee Lauder)

By Dane

I apologize in advance for this rant. I know this was intended to be a men's blog. What happens when you smell and are expected to report on solely men's fragrances? You get bored. Prime example - Gucci by Gucci Pour Homme. Besides having a ridiculous name, this might be the saddest Cool Water knock-off I've ever smelled. It's so horrifically bad that I couldn't for the life of me come up with more than that one descriptive sentence. What does all this have to do with White Linen you ask? Almost nothing, except for this piece of advice - guys, the ladies get all the good smells, and I'm planning on stealing some of them for myself (and so should you).

White Linen has everything you associate with a women's fragrance - soapy aldehydes, soapy florals, and soapy musks. What's hidden underneath is what intrigues me and precisely what makes this a great scent for men too. Laundry musks are instantly recognizable and automatically associate thoughts of "clean", but when you think about it, musks are anything but. "But(t)" is the operative word here - the musks used in WL have a deep, skanky undertone of unclean that, to me, makes this fragrance one of the best of all time. If you're willing to wait through the bombardment of aldehydes in the opening and the cloying film of soap-residue it leaves on the back of your throat, you're in for a treat.

WL, in the past, used the most well-known synthetic musk of them all - Galaxolide (along with Musk Ketone). Current restrictions on fragrance ingredients could mean that these musks have been replaced with others, but the feeling is still there. Musks are interesting because everyone seems to interpret them differently. I'm sure there are some of you who think that WL is nothing short of squeaky-clean, which is why I find the composition so fascinating. Along with said musks are an assortment of woods, vetivers, mosses, florals, and ambers (both natural and synthetic). Although much of WL would be made up of synthetics, the natural ingredients (like rose and oakmoss) add the required complexities that keep it from being one-dimensional and dull.

My first reaction to WL's drydown came up with one conclusion - civet. But how could they slip civet in among so many soapy notes without anyone noticing? Not sure, but if anyone could pull of a brilliant accord like this, it would be the immensely talented and legendary nose, Sophia Grojsman. The advertised notes are listed below as per Estee Lauder's website, but lo and behold, a search of the Internet came up with a more revealing and realistic list of notes. Per Basenotes - Aldehydes, Citrus Notes, Peach, Rose, Jasmine, Lilac, Orris, Muguet, Ylang-Ylang, Cedar, Honey, Amber, Civet, Sandal, Tonka Bean.

In closing, I'd like to once again emphasize to all the guy-readers to not let the sales associates at the perfume counter sway your judgement. If, like me, you bore of the mainstream men's selections, move on to the more interesting fragrance that you may have overlooked. Rant over.

Side note - concentrations of WL are a bit confusing. There was a once an EDT and EDP. Now there exists only a "Parfum", although Lauder explains it is more of an EDP strength. I have no compared vintage with new, so I cannot comment on any differences.

Year: 1978
Perfumer: Sophia Grojsman
Notes: Bulgarian Rose, Jasmine, Muguet, Violet, Orris, Vetiver, Moss, Amber