In clear methodical style, reviewing Secretions Magnifiques differs totally from any other review I’ve done. Without obfuscation – Secretions Magnifiques is an absolutely appalling scent, reserved for those who derive pleasure from the most lurid and unpleasant experiences.
But in saying this, Secretions Magnifiques is a magnificent work coming from concept; bending and expanding the possibilities of scent and fragrance. Like the late Alexander McQueen’s runway shows: dresses made from microscope slides, shells, and extravagantly provocative garments and headgear, this scent is a work devoid of actual application or practicality.
However, it cannot be a review of the scent if it is not worn, and I indeed wore this scent several times, both in the safe confinement of my dwelling and more riskily in the public domain. I am in the end glad I wore and persisted with Secretions Magnifiques for the main reason that it became an observable study of the importance of names, associations, and impressions. For me, wearing and living with Secretions Magnifiques has deepened my perfume vocabulary and improved my sensibilities. Salty effects of some fragrances now call to mind Secretions Magnifiques. Creamy tropical smells of coconut, lactic notes and sandalwood on some occasions call to mind Secretions Magnifiques, and white florals – some white florals – call to mind Secretions Magnifiques. It is utterly fascinating.
Take Dior’s J’Adore. My opinion of this scent has been made already, and it is irrelevant here. A cheerful handful of individuals who wear J’Adore are completely unaware of how much they smell of
semen Secretions Magnifiques. For some, when on the skin J’Adore bares a slight salinity: The salty, milky fleshiness of florals are intensified and made gross in Secretions Magnifiques.
“Olfactory Coitus” – Etat Libre d’Orange
Etat Libre d’Orange states that this fragrance contains an iodised accord. My experience with iodine clashes a saltiness with a bleached clinical clean – A metallic smell, calling to mind the furry feeling in the mouth. The pungency of ammoniac notes and chlorine pools also come to mind. To achieve this, perfumer Antoine Lie uses fucus – a brown algae, and the aromamolecule azurone, described as marine-like, with a touch of salt on the skin. A metallic, cleaning product accord thus attributes to the impressions of blood, saliva, and seminal fluid. I suspect safely that these notes in isolation would be unpleasant, but in trace amounts within a composition would create pleasing effects. I have been told to mix a drop of this fragrance in Etat’s Jasmin et Cigarette to amplify the latter’s floral intensity. I deduce that the use of a milk effect in Secretion’s with this salty unpleasantry creates the nauseating results.
In my studies with this scent, there are mixed reactions. My brother for instance was immediately repulsed, claiming it had the odour profile of decaying fish – this was without any reference to what this scent actually was. But contrastingly, when worn in public I received no such repulsive or scornful reactions, it was only when I told my fellow sniffers what this intended to be that they were repulsed. “Mmm. Is that vanilla?”, “Smells like scented candle”, “Smells like coconut – something warm.”, and “Clean laundry” reactions turned into fowl, cathartic bouts of swearing of disdain, disgust, and disapproval when I informed them that they were smelling blood, sweat, saliva, milk, semen – all the good bodily good stuff. The name carries more for the untrained nose. But I suspect familiarity with scent, perfume, and environmental aromas will cause greater reaction to Secretions Magnifiques.
Photo by Etat Libre d’Orange
But how can I describe the scent? Simply, I do believe that this smells bodily, masculine especially, but there’s a depth to it. Underneath this lies a very creamy woodiness and a floral heart. Objectively, Secretions is a tad clumsy, perhaps haphazard. It is spiky when visualised. Ridiculously jagged, uneven, and uninformed with itself. It reminds me of putting vinegar and disinfectant lemon smells into milk.
The milky, jizz aspect of this hit me right in the back of the throat–like a relative stranger with only moderate hygiene shooting a huge load mid-blowjob without any forewarning. I have never felt so assaulted by perfume, or so in awe. – _Libertine_ (Fragrantica)
There’s a delicate powdery trail persistent in Secretions, pushing through at a high pitch in this eau de parfum. This makes me chuckle because it reminds me of scents worn popularly by grandmothers, also, decaying flowers: Like roses being left to dry in a dark store cupboard. Further, plastic-smells, hot rubber, unwashed bodies, smegma perhaps … Finally, think river water with an unpleasant green-coloured melange of life floating at the top.
With a combination of these creamy notes, calling to mind a tropical humidity, the scent clashes infinitely, creating unpleasantness. As a perfume this is criticised. As a conceptual art work, like, say, a Björk piece, this is accepted and fulfils what it intends to do – shock, incite fear, and draw an artwork where the body reigns supreme.
Alternative: J’Adore by Dior.
Shameless, sub-par hygiene gloryhole experience.
Subjective rating: 1/5
Objective rating: 1.5/5
One thought on “Secretions Magnifiques by Etat Libre d’Orange: A Social Experiment.”
It is quite obvious to me that in the world of scent there is no judgement based on scent alone as your social airing of SM proved. Everyone is swayed in one way or other but the marketing, name, packaging, et al. They also tend to ape whatever they read or heard another say before. It is so easy to create reality on the internet just by stating whatever as truth and suddenly it is all over as THE truth. That’s why I continue to enjoy your reasoned and objective look at the world of fragrance. You are an original. You have also made me want to immediately acquire a bottle of J’Adore. 🙂