As for me, I continue to search for Jules, and have even resorted to seeking out back-street chemists in the hope they might just have some old stock. So far I've had no luck, but I have befriended a few pharmacists along the way and I have enjoyed some limited success with the other scent I mourn, Samarkand, another 1980s classic, this one by the Body Shop.

— Gareth Wyn Davies on discontinued (or, as in the case of Jules by Christian Dior, poorly distributed) fragrances for men. Read more at To be (dis)continued: the story of the lost men's scents at the Telegraph.

Despite being twenty years old, Christian Dior Dune seems to be seeing a resurgence — at least in the perfume blogs. Dune has been coming up a lot in comments to posts, and I’ve seen a smattering of reviews over the past year or so. Last week, I told Robin I’d like to review Dune for today. The very next day Victoria at Bois de Jasmin posted a marvelous Dune review. Apparently Dune is in the air.

Jean-Louis Sieuzac was lead perfumer for Dune. In 1993, Dune won a FiFi for Women’s Fragrance of the Year in Limited Distribution. The Dior website lists Dune’s notes as mandarin, peony, and vanilla. Michael Edwards’s Perfume Legends adds notes of broom, wallflower, bergamot, lily, jasmine, rose, amber, lichen, musk, sandalwood, and vanilla.

Dior’s web copy could mislead a reader into wrongly thinking Dune smells like an Orange Julius at the Jersey Shore…

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Christian Dior has launched Patchouli Impérial, a new addition to the La Collection Privée Christian Dior series…

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Below the jump, an older ad with model Milla Jovovich, followed by a short 2010 ad with actress Monica Bellucci.

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Twice, recently, I have walked past a rack of discount CDs that includes a “Best of the 90s” compilation. The cover features a pair of pouting Material Girls with tousled two-tone hair, red lipstick, neon off-the-shoulder shirts and black vests and leggings. I did not look at the track list, because I was so put out by the photo. I was a teenager in those pre-Y2K times and I think the producers of this album might have missed the last nine years of the decade. When I graduated high school in 1997, that look had already made at least two rounds as a retro Halloween costume. Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam were no longer touring and Kurt Cobain had been dead for three years, but my yearbook confirms we were still wearing plenty of jeans and plaid flannel,¹ though people had mercifully stopped requesting Nirvana’s Heart-shaped Box, possibly the world’s least danceable song, at every party. Girls wore straight hair, pixie-cut or long and center-parted. I had a programming geek boyfriend, and after a few years of BBS posting using my family’s agonizingly slow dial-up connection, I had decided my future was at a school nicknamed “M.I.T. North”. There, my friends traded their jeans for Microserf khakis. Britpop groups and Radiohead were popular, as was genial stoner music of the Dave Matthews Band variety. Everybody seemed to be reading Guns, Germs, and Steel, watching animated shows on TV and going to a lot of violent, angry movies starring Kevin Spacey or Brad Pitt.² In North America, the Starr report was out and events like Columbine happened, and it felt then like we were living through a very sad, cynical, disaffected era. Looking back after 9/11 and the global recession, however, and a few horrific natural disasters and inconvenient truths later, the nineties seem to me today like oddly sincere, hopeful years. I never expected to be a nostalgic old fool so soon.

I wasn’t obsessed with perfume then. I vaguely recall tropical fruity or citrus-clean skin scents like Calvin Klein ck One and Clinique Happy being very popular…

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Christian Dior has launched Addict to Life, a new fresh floral fragrance for women. Addict to Life is a flanker to 2002′s Addict, and is fronted by model Karlie Kloss…

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Blech. Despite being born a May baby, I have never been a fan of spring. I’m sure it’s different in the other parts of the world, but every year, people above the 39th parallel in Europe and North America stand on street corners at this time of year, leaning at a 75 degree angle into gusting drizzle, and insist: “It wasn’t like this last year!” Trust me, it was. The mud, the wind, the Easter snow or hailstorm, the false hope of that one giddy day near April Fool’s when the sun shone and the warm breezes blew, like in a laundry detergent commercial, before the rain and gray chill returned — it all happened last year. I am not a pessimist. It is merely that I believe in the motto of mothers everywhere: let’s not get worked up here. Crazed displays of Birkenstock sandals and patio furniture will only end in tears. I support measured celebrations of spring’s small pleasures. For one, it is ramp season. Perhaps you have received your tax return. The road salt has melted away and you can go to 2D movies without being subjected to aliens, robots or robotic aliens. And it is time for some of your freshest, prettiest, newest fragrances to grace the air.

Composing a Top 10 for this most uncertain of seasons, I have tried not to dwell on lost favorites or the flood of recent scents I’ve missed. Jean Patou Vacances, Gobin-Daudé Sève Exquise, and L’Artisan Jacinthe des Bois are all gone and it somehow felt irresponsible to include them in the list. I have vintage samples of the many spring classics that have been damaged or ruined by reformulation — Balmain Vent Vert, Caron Violette Précieuse, the silver fluidity of Diorissimo, the mysterious smoky-green of Worth Je Reviens, the original Dior Fahrenheit’s honeysuckle-and-wet-blacktop — and I use them sparingly and despairingly. I have not tried MDCI Un Coeur en Mai, Byredo La Tulipe, ElizabethW Magnolia or CB I Hate Perfume Wild Pansy and am trying to convince myself that I don’t need to do so. With no further excuses, my Top 10 of Spring…

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In a recent post at Perfume Posse, Musette described her adolescent self as “Geek before Geek was cool”. During a week when I watched The Social Network and contemplated buying a Gregory Brothers / Auto-Tune the News t-shirt, her description was just another sign that we have lived to see the day my mother was always promising me would come: nerds have inherited the earth. We’ve come a long way since the 1980s and nerdom has evolved: gone are the high pants and the pocket protectors (as well as most of the pens), nerds of every gender and race are acknowledged, and globalization and the internet have opened up new, niche fields of nerd inquiry. No longer restricted to math, science, computing and Star Trek conventions, nerds are becoming foodies and bespectacled mixologists, pop musicians, graphic novelists and film bloggers, beekeepers, adventure travelers, market watchers, reality television competitors and whistle-blowing website activists. Nerds have money. They own the best home theatre equipment and make the coolest Halloween costumes. They know the only coffee place in town with a Clover. And, increasingly, some of them are smelling really good.

Perfume is a great hobby for geeks and systems wonks. It can involve hours and days and weeks of research into a secretive, trend-driven and detail-oriented industry. You end up collecting bottles and vials, ordering or swapping rarities through the mail and building storage units or furniture to organize your collection. You exhibit a lot of mavenish behavior, like checking currency conversion websites multiple times a day. Almost every perfumista of long-standing I know keeps a spreadsheet or electronic notepad full of data on sample testing count, fragrance notes, prices, perfumer names or vintage scent markers…

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