Puredistance is a house very dear to my heart. Puredistance I, Antonia and M are all in my collection, I admire the style of this house and the way its founder Jan Ewoud Vos implements his philosophy and taste to build a brand that stands for luxury and quality, quite contrary to today’s trends.
Opardu is the fourth perfume created for the line, the third by Annie Buzantian (only M is by Roja Dove).
Opardu includes notes of tuberose absolute, gardenia, Bulgarian Rose, carnation, jasmine absolute, heliotrope and cedarwood.
The name Opardu is a neologism created by Jan Ewoud Vos, who told me with a twinkle in his eye, that it was his gift to the French who have been needing that word for a long time.
Opardu is a very evocative word, leaving room for everyone’s personal interpretation, Mr Vos wants it to be a memory of things past, of opulence and romance. For me, Opardu stands for “Oh, perdu!”, a sigh of quiet desperation for the things that are irrevocably gone, lost in time and never to be found again. (You know I’m not the most optimistic of people, I have a weak spot for all things melancholy. It’s my Viennese soul.)
Smelling Opardu, it perfectly fits that twilighted landscape of the soul hovering between tears and a smile, the name has evoked in me. Bitter-sweet memories, unfulfilled dreams, missed chances and rueful glances backwards find their olfactory equivalent in rain-drenched lilac, sweet violet and powdery heliotrope. A whiff of my mothers soap makes the trip down a shadowy memory lane perfect.
Opardu is a quiet and reflective perfume, it is retro in feel and it clearly harks back to a different era. Upperclass women in Fin de Siècle Vienna might have smelled like Opardu.
I’m not sure I agree about the notion of opulence that the company assigns to Opardu, because I find it to subdued for that. (Suzanne sees this similarly in her beautiful review.)
Opardu fits perfectly in the Puredistance canon, because it is elegant and refined, and makes me feel classy and sophisticated. Class is what Puredistance is all about, and Opardu without a doubt, has class.
I like to wear it and pretend to be Emilie Flöge for a day. And on such a day, it is fine to wallow in sentimental feelings about how all things must end, how ultimately all is lost.
Once the last of Opardu’s sillage dissipates in the air, it is time to dry the tears, go to sleep and be safe in the knowledge that all is well and will be well as surely as the sun will rise again.
But from time to time, I wouldn’t want to miss the look backwards Opardu facilitates. It’s only from the past that we learn.