The opening of Habanita feels as though you are stepping out onto a warmly lit night street in Havana. The dazzling lights, the slowly fading heat and humidity, and the drifting scent of a beautifully cultured tropical city.

As you stand in the street, the evening breeze slowly drifts by, and picks up a soft trail of smoke. The first notes that hit the senses are strangely acrid and smoky, nearly incense-like; the notes drift away with the breeze, their source yet to be determined. As they drift by, a prelude to the glory that is to be discovered, you find yourself standing in a market surrounded by stalls of fruits, amongst other delectable foods and goods. At the start, a very soft citrus note is complemented by the tender and juicy embrace of peach, as well as the sweet and tangy notes of raspberry. On my skin, I also detect the slightest hint of strawberry? Individually, these notes would be strong enough to stand alone, here though they mesh and blend together in a way that simply teases the appetite. An appetizer for the main course to come.

As the soft breeze picks up, the trail of sweetened smoke continues to pull you further, past the stalls of berries and fruits, and towards an outdoor garden. Here, the heart of Habanita blooms.

In this garden, Habanita boasts a bouquet of rich and tropical ylang-ylang, a powerful rose, a tinge of white florals, and the powdery facets of heliotrope. On my skin, I also detect a faint hint of violet, which adds a slightly sweet and powdery note that is similar to Caron’s much later Aimez-Moi (1996). In full bloom, the bouquet of Habanita is stunningly beautiful, but does not feel fresh and spring-like. Rather, it feels hot, humid, languid, and slightly wilted in their presentation. Having said that, they don’t feel exhausted and dead. No, this is their final show, and they saved the last of their bloom for you. As you bask in their swan song, they slowly die before your senses, and in their place is the smoldering and dense base that Habanita is known for.

Although Habanita is forever interlinked with tobacco, that smoky trail belies its true origins. Warm balmy notes of amber and resins, combined with an intensely smooth, nearly bitter-sweet vanilla note displace the air around you. In their wake, soft musk, a heavy dose of powder, and something animalic and funky, civet perhaps? When combined together, they form not just a base for Habanita, but a soul. That soulful spirit of Habanita is what sets it apart from other compositions of its time. It doesn’t wait for you to discover it, instead it presents its entire lifeforce to you from the very beginning. It catches you off guard throughout all aspects of its structure, and leads you into its web before smothering you in its hot and fiery passion.

As you lull yourself to sleep in its smooth, warm, and comforting embrace, Habanita snaps you back into reality. No matter how close its namesake city might have seemed, it was always just an illusion that remained far out of reach. The shocking truth behind Habanita is that it only represents the idea of Havana, an idea not formed on its beaches but on the streets of Grasse. Every note, smoothed over and filtered behind a haze of warmth and decadence. Hours later, when Habanita has finished having its fun with your senses, it drops you back in the real world. The trailing scent of smoke the only thing left to remember it by.

Habanita through the night, but back in Paris by the morning.