After Pacific Chill joined my collection, I realized that
Louis Vuitton perfumes aren't so simple, and I decided to explore them more closely. Indeed, many of the fragrances created by perfumer Jacques Cavallier for this French brand at first glance—especially if you've been passionate about perfume for a long time and are deeply entrenched in niche or vintage—seem too simple and don't justify their high price. But in reality, many of them are extremely good and deserve attention.
It's all about the subtlety and quality of the compositions. I wouldn't say all Louis Vuitton fragrances, but many do perform well over time. Jacques Cavallier doesn't try to "sell" a perfume with a flashy opening; on the contrary, his fragrances are most appealing in the base—the longest and, ultimately, most important phase of development.
After Pacific Chill, I bought a bottle of Imagination and am still trying to sort out the emotions it evokes in me. And after Imagination, L'Immensité joined my collection. I'd like to dedicate this article to it: on the one hand, I have something to say about this fragrance, but on the other, the time has come to say it. What do I mean? Besides my opinion on L'Immensité, I want to share my observations about how bloggers and, echoing them, users of perfume websites describe this fragrance, and how their opinions differ greatly from reality.
L'Immensité is undoubtedly a masculine fragrance. Or rather, it's not even that: it's a man's fragrance. Like many of Jacques Cavallier's other creations for Louis Vuitton, it combines several elements familiar from other brands' bestsellers.
The composition of L'Immensité rests on three pillars. First, there's the fresh, citrusy opening, which deserves special attention. Second, there's the spicy, aromatic heart, a nod to the men's fragrances of bygone eras. L'Immensité could have been worn by someone who flourished in the 1980s or early 1990s. Finally, the base plays a key role in the fragrance, which I would describe as leathery, built primarily around isobutyl quinoline.
But it's not just the way L'Immensité smells that's interesting, but how it's described and compared—especially by bloggers on TikTok and other social media. In my opinion, the paradox of Louis Vuitton perfumes is that young TikTokers have become the foundation of its success. Despite their very high price and extremely limited distribution, the brand's fragrances unexpectedly gained immense popularity. YouTube bloggers soon began praising them. And then Fragrantica users became interested in Louis Vuitton fragrances—the number of views and comments skyrocketed.
The current situation raises an important question: how much can we trust the opinions of bloggers, especially if they're young and lacking not only knowledge of how the industry works, but even the proverbial "sniffing"? When we discuss the work of Jacques Cavallier, a master and undoubtedly an expert on perfume history, we can't ignore the past of perfumery, from which he draws his inspiration. But how can TikTokers possibly know which fragrances were popular 15-20 years ago, let alone longer ago?
As a result, a curious precedent has emerged with L'Immensité. For some reason, many bloggers decided it was similar to another Jacques Cavallier creation, Tygar by Bvlgari. Yes, both fragrances were created by the same perfumer. Yes, their pyramids list similar notes—grapefruit, ginger, ambroxan. But in reality, they have very little in common. Their frequent comparisons strike me as an example of mass hallucination.
Tygar is a super-modern fragrance, practically devoid of embellishment. And it's precisely this simplicity that made it popular: it's an extremely long-lasting citrus-ginger "freshness" that has spawned a whole class of imitators, mostly from Arabian countries. L'Immensité is completely different. It's a reworking of vintage ideas, refined to a point where they sound contemporary. It's a far more complex and subtle undertaking. I'm not writing this to disparage Tygar, but to highlight the profound differences between these two fragrances.
I bought a bottle of L'Immensité specifically because of the base. In my opinion, it has a rather dull, completely unremarkable citrus opening. It can't compete with Tygar. So if you're looking for a fresh, long-lasting citrus, you're better off with the Bvlgari hit. But if you're looking for a beautiful masculine chypre-fougère fragrance with classic aromatic notes in the heart and a leathery, ambroxan, slightly musky base, consider L'Immensité. Its opening reminds me of Guerlain men's fragrances, especially Guerlain Homme, where the lime note is rather bland: when you inhale it, there's nothing for your nose to latch onto. There's no juice, no pulp, no citrus zest. Just an abstract citrus freshness, complemented by mint and geranium. The geranium here serves as a bridge between the brief opening and the aromatic heart.
Let me emphasize: if ginger is present in L'Immensité's citrus-geranium accord, it's in trace amounts—it doesn't play a role significant enough to warrant comparison with Tygar. The freshness of the geranium leads us to the heart of the fragrance, which harks back to the monumental chypre-fougères of the 1980s—with nutmeg, rosemary, and sage. Think of Duc de Vervins by Houbigant, Zino by Davidoff, Nobile by
Gucci, or Rive Gauche pour Homme by
Yves Saint Laurent —this vibe is present in L'Immensité. Here, the fragrance is framed in a rather general, abstract accord, complemented by woody notes already emerging from the base. This accord only hints at the vintage style, but, fortunately, doesn't quote it literally.
The base of L'Immensité is woody, leathery, and ambroxan-musky. It features influences of vetiver, cedar, and patchouli, a combination that once again evokes associations with
Guerlain fragrances—not Homme, but L'Instant de Guerlain pour Homme. Stripped of the gourmand sweetness, the result is precisely the woodiness one detects in the base of L'Immensité. But the key elements here are ambroxan, presented in the manner of
Dior 's Sauvage, and a leather accord built around isobutyl quinoline—a powerful, leathery-green ingredient, applied here with meticulous precision. It was applied with the same precision in
Creed 's Aventus—yes, the essence of Aventus is not only in the beautiful citrus-fruity top note and the transparent hedione heart, but also in the isobutylquinoline base, which many compare to the smell of an ashtray, complemented by soft, clean musks.
It was this base that inspired me to buy a bottle of L'Immensité. It reminds me of the old versions of Aventus, which once brought me so much joy and compliments. I perceive L'Immensité as an homage to that fragrance, replacing the pineapple top and heart with more classic, even vintage elements. I am amazed at how modern L'Immensité smells, despite being an essentially old-school fragrance. Jacques Cavallier managed to cleanse all unnecessary facets in both the aromatic heart and the leather base. The result is a very comfortable, everyday, masculine fragrance of the highest quality – although, in essence, incredibly far removed from the equally high-quality Tygar.
What's the lesson here? Listen to yourself first. Mass popularity may indicate that a fragrance is worth trying. But when you try it, evaluate it yourself. Don't let mass hallucinations influence your opinion—and, ultimately, your choice.