Bois Farine is inspired by a tree which grows on the isle of Réunion. It's an ironic name because Réunion, which means meeting, is six hundred miles off Madagascar; not so handy for meetings then...
But thats where Jean-Claude Ellena went to sniff the flowers of the tree, which apparently smell like flour.
The perfume is light and powdery-woody but it has a depth, a heft - which lArtisan call pastry and hazelnuts and which gives it a real charm. There's the almond smell of marzipan, as well as a kind of soft woodiness along with the flour - which I don't quite get as much as bitter oily-powdery-doughiness. Its quite honeyed - fruity, and with fig leaf.
This may have been new in 2003 but its quite familiar today, the powdery-woody core of the scent has been copied many times; and - lets face it - it's a great idea and a good base for development.
Its made with ambroxan, and probably Iso E Super, so these days it would be a no brainer : start with the core of this for a light woody scent with powdery hints, and then take it in a masculine or feminine direction - as required.
But, coming back to our scent, its a good piece of work, imaginative; and it conforms - in the best possible way - to the old adage KISS : keep it simple stupid. A simple harmony, filigreed with bitter-sweet contrast.
But for me it gets a bit sticky later on; insistent. In fact, the base reminds me of Jardin en Méditerranée; which Ellena wrote the same year, and has the same kind of fault at the end, too heavy.
It's smells exactly like undercooked dough. Linear apart from the fresh opening which is marred by the dough smell. Projection and longevity is poor. If that is what you want to smell of then this is would be stellar if it performed. I don't.
I entered a shop selling the whole Artisan Parfumeur collection because I love their amber fragrances and saw the much-envied terra-cotta balls. I wanted to let someone I love smell some things of the collection, but then the name attracted me. I tried this one on first, and last. I told the seller Id smell it all night and probably would come back the day after to buy it, but simultaneously I was already addicted by its roasted nuts smell and gave her my credit card. Just have all my money, Bois Farine, no question asked. Ive been buying memories.
The opening of Bois Fariné definitely reminds me of some bread or cakes that I smelt before. I don't think it smells like peanut butter or nutella on me. I just can't put my finger on it! (What on earth is it? It's driving me crazy! Grrrrrr....... =A=)
After about 3 or 4 hours, the benzoin loses its power on the fragrance. The sandalwoods and other woodsy notes become more prominent. The scent also turns slightly sour on me. The powdery aspect is noticeable but not aggressive.
The sillage is soft but the scent stays solid along the wearing. The longevity is around 6 hours on me. Actually, Bois Fariné doesn't evoke much emotion to me. I'm attracted by the scent itself as it smells just so interesting and addictive. It definitely worths at least a try!
If I were a baker my kitchen would have many trays holding the many rising dough balls that would later become my world famous peanut bread. Tubs of freshly slivered almonds and my signature amaretto glaze complete the scene. Bois Farine. The baker owns a bottle but rarely wears it. And when the baker is informed that the master JCE is responsible for both this one and Santal Massoia, he just grunts an unenthusiastic 'that figures' and goes back to baking his world famous peanut bread.
Although it's woody, Bois Farine really needs to be worn in warm weather or on warm skin. It brings out the creamy nuttiness and the delicate flowers; in the cold it can smell a bit pencil-sharpenings. A great one for a long drive or for reading in a sunny bay window.
This has a nutty vibe which is pretty nice. A little incense is added with some light woods in the background. The projection and longevity isn't all that great but for this type of fragrance, I wouldn't want it to be too loud anyway. Perfect for a nice cool day. Cool, not cold. 7/10
I thought I had the measure of this the minute I put it on. Aha, I said to myself, ok, Bois Farine, I understand you completely. You are less a perfume than the collected smells of a health food store: crushed peanut shells, sawdust, wood shavings, bags of whole-wheat flour, quinoa, big jars of tahini, and chunks of halva lined up in the cooler section. Dust, oil, flour. Its all there.An olfactory joke, sure, but a wry, knowing one.
But wait. The journey isnt over yet. We may have started in the health food store, but the scenery is whizzing past us now, to primary school and the delicious smells of the art supply closet. I can smell the cheap almond glue smell of heliotropin, and it reminds me both of salty playdough, warm vanilla, and the standard-issue, non-toxic glue they let kids use.
There is finally a dry, warm vanilla dusty, like the smell of realms of paper in the closet. I smell the blue-white milk, tepid and fatty, already put out in cups lined up behind the teachers desk, ready for our snack time, collecting dust as the school room clocks long hand inches inexorably slowly towards 11am and freedom.
I see now why so many people find this a comforting scent. It starts out as an olfactory joke and ends up as a f^&*%g time machine.
Its like watching Cinema Paradiso and holding out until the last scene where they play all the cut reels and then ending up howling on the floor. Bois Farine, you are such an asshole.
Out of the gate, its a warm cedar interwoven with spices and a soft, nutty texture. But the pleasing welcome is really just there to introduce the two stars of the show: Iso E and heliotropin (an almond-smelling chemical). The resulting scent conjures the image of a plate of shortbread sitting next to a vase of flowers, but its all tad synthesized in fact, it smells borderline severe to me. Ultimately, it sits somewhere between gourmand and floral that, despite being cozy at first, gets boring real fast. A relatively agreeable but uninspiring foody blend with LArtisans signature piss-poor performance.
Delightful confectionery experience. Milky iris. There is an Iranian sweet by the name of gaz, a white nougat with nuts and dusted with flour. Bois Farine is reminiscent of it, in many aspects: the milk, flour, iris, sweet notes. Not a grand symphony, but not the one-liner many reviews would lead you to expect. Bright powdery opening, sweet woody-iris heart, clean drydown. Lasts 6-8 hours in moderate/cool weather. Has the iris caveat: smells like delicious make-up. So far, the only perfume that has made me recline and laugh. Recommended!
Cookies and nuts and ..... wind. When you think of a gourmand parfume you wouldn't consider wind, would you? Well, Bois Farine is a gourmand with something airy and spacious. It's a box of bisquits, but placed on a table in the garden, under the shadow of a great oak tree. Doesn't make you think of a kitchen but of an open space. Delicious and classy at the same time.
The smell of peanut butter on good white bread, delivered on the consoling breath of a lover in a meadow. Tahini, hemp and fennel seeds, hazelnut butter, honey, oats; it's a health food store whos who. If I were forced to pick one descriptor? Peanut shell, which gets at both the nuttiness of Jean-Claude Ellénas composition as well as its woodiness.
This is a mellow, doughy angle on the iris-and-cedar theme Elléna explored in the earlier Bois d'Iris for The Different Company (2000), whose top notes are peculiarly edible. Or, if the almond note here were amplified, we'd be approaching an oven-warmed version of Ellénas L'Eau d'Hiver for Frederic Malle, likewise released in 2003. But Bois Farine is original, moreish and uncanny in a way that neither of these two are, excellent as they might be.
To me, this scent is the lower-priced older sister of L'Eau D'Hiver, from Frederic Malle. Sweet, minimal, but with different notes, the feeling of a spare elegant oriental remains. The flour note central to Bois Farine, is actually from a wood, not wheat, so to my nose the resemblance is not that strong. Also, Bois Farine, opens with a dry odd notes that is hard to describe, but soon settles down to a sheer comforting woody sweetness. Interestingly, I never thought of Bois Farine as nutty, as other reviews have mentioned. A sample will not fail to intrigue you...must be smelled.
I think all the talk about peanut butter had me a little nervous, and this sample kept getting shoved to the bottom of the pile.
Ahhhhhhhh, how wrong I was! This is my version of a comfort scent. Well blended (another JC Ellena), using minimal notes that stand out, but creating a sum that it better than it's parts.
The opening is fennel for sure, with the iris note rising (pun intended) into the smell of a country kitchen during baking. Flour is easily imagined, but this is a doughy iris note that is very prominent. It warms into the most natural and comforting smell - the kind that only can come out of a bakery or kitchen. Soft sandalwood then creeps in. The combination, and the whole experience, is just cozy and warm - not gourmand, but just a comfort-of-home type smell.
Lovely. Almost more of a smell or experience rather than a perfume, but I wasn't bothered by that at all. This one has a similar feel to another Ellena scent, L'Eau d'Hiver, but I like the Farine much better.
A bit of a different style from L'Artisan, a change of pace from all the spicy and incensy stuff. Bois Farine opens with an extremely pleasant and different aroma. It's powdery, sweet in a slightly gourmand way. Kind of reminds me of some sort of cracker. It has a nutiness too, and somewhat of a creamy vanilla smell. I wanna say there's citrus there too, but I'm not so sure. After researching the 'fennel seed' note, one that I'm not familiar with, it turns out that this is what I'm smelling.
As it dries, it becomes a little less sweet, a lot more faint. The iris note in this is different. It isn't overplayed, it isn't real powdery or bitter as iris can be. And, the base is very woody, but oh so faint. This scent ends up getting really close to the skin. But, boy is it lovely smell. The longevity, I can't quite distinguish. I had a sample, wore it a few times, and could only really smell it for about 6 hours. Though, I had like this "un-neutral" smell on my skin, that lasted forever, but it wasn't much of anything. Kind of like a faint blueberry and floral smell. It was hard to figure out, harder to smell, but what was left, was pleasant. Projection is average, better on clothing, but ends up as a skin scent for most of the time.
Overall, I think this is one of the better L'Artisan fragrances for sure. It's very unisex, so either sex could pull it off. It's versatile and unique. Think peanut butter, grape or blueberry jelly, and some soft florals.
Okay, when I dabbed on Bois Farine and let it dry, I couldn't stop laughing. It seriously smells just like peanuts. Or, almond cookies of some sort. Not sweet like Marzipan, just straight up Planter's peanuts with some woods thrown in the mix. As it dries down I get more iris and woods towards the end but that peanut smell never leaves. It's not the kind of fragrance I'd wear, but Bois Farine is a reminder of how amazing fragrances are when it comes to conjuring up different smells or images. Good longevity and sillage; very unique and enjoyable.
Le rêve de lécureuil.
Wearing Bois farine reminds me of the poetic name of a dessert I once tasted in France. What can a squirrel dream of, when winter days are getting shorter, trees are getting bare and cold creeps into his hole? I suppose hed dream of nuts, nuts, nuts
Grounded hazelnuts, walnuts, chestnuts, almonds (maybe not peanuts, as everybody here seems to point out, but I guess it is something to do with different food culture: Im not accustomed to peanut butters taste and couldnt say what it smells like): these notes gently hit my nostrils in the opening of the fragrance, along with bittersweetly piquant, liquorice-y Umbelliferae seeds- aniseed, fennel and cumin that spice it up just a bit. Then some flowers emerge, powdery iris, to give light and softness to the woods surrounding.
Everything is fine until some synthetic woody amber that I'm hypersensitive to stands out and soon the fragrance becomes quite a scrubber for me.
Too bad, as the opening is lovely in its exceptionally gentle, subtle and comforting nuttiness.
If you like this, but dislike the pricetag, you must try "Max Mara" by Max Mara, which is a über-sweetened version of "Bois Farine". Both perfumes are "Floral Woody Musk's". But the sugared "Max Mara" has a nicer price-tag to it. You simply must try this! You will get a lot of perfume for the money if you buy "Max Mara" (which is also one my signature-fragrances - love love love !!!).