Midnight Poison (2007)

When Dior introduced Midnight Poison in 2007, it marked a dramatic return to the dark, mysterious allure that had defined the Poison line since 1985. The name itself—Midnight Poison—is immediately evocative. Pronounced in English just as it reads (MID-night POY-zuhn), it fuses two potent ideas: “midnight,” the hour of mystery and transformation, and “poison,” Dior’s signature symbol of forbidden beauty. Together, they conjure images of moonlit seduction, a woman enveloped in sapphire silk, her perfume trailing like smoke through the night air. It is a name that suggests power and enigma, beauty with a dangerous edge—a theme that has always pulsed through Dior’s most iconic fragrances.

The choice of the word Midnight carries symbolic weight. In literature, myth, and art, midnight represents thresholds: the moment between days, between dreams and reality, where hidden desires emerge. The combination of this imagery with Poison—a word already steeped in sensual tension—captures the allure of a modern femme fatale. It evokes not the blinding glamour of daylight but the kind of beauty that reveals itself under the moon: hypnotic, knowing, and impossible to resist. The scent’s deep blue bottle, echoing the shimmer of a midnight sky, reinforces this vision—a darker, more mysterious evolution of Dior’s original apple-shaped flacon.

The late 2000s was a time of nostalgia for opulence after a decade of minimalism. The early 2000s had favored clean, sheer fragrances—light florals and fresh aquatics—but by the mid-2000s, a shift was underway. Fashion was embracing a renewed sense of drama and fantasy, influenced by the gothic romanticism seen on runways by designers such as John Galliano (then Dior’s creative director). Galliano’s couture work—steeped in historical references, sumptuous fabrics, and theatrical flair—perfectly mirrored the tone of Midnight Poison. This was a time when luxury fashion and storytelling became intertwined, and perfume once again served as a vehicle for fantasy.

 

Created by master perfumers Jacques Cavallier and Olivier Cresp of Firmenich, in collaboration with François Demachy of LVMH, Midnight Poison was classified as a woody chypre fragrance. Its structure reinterpreted the classic chypre accord of bergamot, patchouli, and ambered woods but modernized it with a resinous, balsamic intensity and a cool metallic sheen. The composition was built around the dark radiance of rose, but not a soft or powdery one—instead, a cold, mysterious rose cloaked in amber, patchouli, and vanilla. The result was a fragrance that smelled like black velvet and polished glass, a balance between sensual warmth and icy restraint.

For women of the time, Midnight Poison embodied empowerment and allure. The name and scent appealed to a generation that sought sophistication tinged with danger—femininity expressed through confidence rather than sweetness. It was a fragrance that invited the wearer to embrace her enigmatic side, to become the heroine of her own story. The campaign, starring actress Eva Green and directed by Wong Kar-wai, perfectly captured this mood: cinematic, surreal, and irresistibly dark.

In the context of the fragrance market, Midnight Poison was both timely and distinctive. It arrived during a revival of heavier, more sensual perfumes, yet it stood apart through its chypre backbone—a nod to perfumery’s golden age. While many contemporary releases leaned toward gourmand or fruity-floral compositions, Midnight Poison dared to be gothic, elegant, and unapologetically sophisticated. It was Dior’s reminder that seduction need not shout; it could whisper, linger, and intoxicate—like midnight itself.

In scent form, Midnight Poison transforms its name into an experience: the shimmer of moonlight on dark petals, the rustle of silk against skin, and the slow burn of something beautiful and dangerous. It was, quite fittingly, the last great Poison of Dior’s classic era—a perfume that captured the spellbinding stillness of midnight, and the quiet power of a woman who knows it is her hour.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Midnight Poison is classified as a woody chypre fragrance for women.

• Top notes: mandarin and bergamot
• Middle notes: black rose
• Base notes: patchouli, amber and French vanilla

Scent Profile:

To experience Midnight Poison by Christian Dior is to step into a world of deep blue velvet and shadowed light—a scent that unfolds like a cinematic sequence, each note revealing another layer of mystery. Created by Jacques Cavallier and Olivier Cresp in collaboration with François Demachy, this woody chypre fragrance transforms the traditional floral structure into something magnetic and nocturnal. Every ingredient is carefully chosen, each one glowing against the darkness, contributing to a composition that feels both timeless and modern—a fragrance that seduces through contrasts of coolness and warmth, purity and decadence.

The opening strikes with the crisp brightness of mandarin and bergamot, both sourced from the sunlit groves of southern Italy. The mandarin, most likely from Calabria, bursts open with juicy sweetness, its essential oil rich in limonene, a molecule that lends that immediate citrus sparkle and uplifting energy. Beneath this brightness, traces of gamma-terpinene and citral add depth—a zesty, almost honeyed nuance that keeps the fruit from feeling too innocent. The bergamot, prized from Reggio di Calabria, brings refinement. Its composition of linalyl acetate, linalool, and bergapten offers a more elegant, aromatic citrus character—slightly floral, slightly bitter, perfectly balancing the mandarin’s warmth. Together, these notes shimmer like the first sliver of moonlight—bright but fleeting, illuminating the path into the fragrance’s deeper heart.

At the center of Midnight Poison blooms the mysterious black rose, the true heart of the composition. Of course, no natural black rose exists; this is a perfumer’s illusion, created by deepening the scent of rose with darker, resinous and spicy tones. The rose itself likely draws from Turkish or Bulgarian varieties, rich in citronellol, geraniol, and phenylethyl alcohol—molecules responsible for that familiar, full-bodied floral scent that balances freshness with powdery sweetness. To achieve the “black” effect, this natural rose is layered with darker accords: perhaps a hint of clove-like eugenol or synthetic amber molecules that give it the depth of a rose in shadow. The result is intoxicating—lush and velvety, like a bloom caught at its most fragrant moment, suspended between beauty and decay. The rose’s inherent romance becomes mysterious, transformed by the synthetic touches that expand and prolong its natural complexity.

As the fragrance deepens, the base emerges—rich, warm, and enveloping, a triumphant blend of patchouli, amber, and French vanilla. The patchouli, most likely sourced from Indonesia, is earthy and complex. Its essential oil contains patchoulol, bulnesene, and norpatchoulenol, molecules that give it that unmistakable woody, camphorous, and slightly smoky quality. In Midnight Poison, it has been refined and smoothed—perhaps purified through modern molecular distillation—to remove the roughness, leaving only its dark, silken texture. This is not the patchouli of the 1970s, but a couture interpretation: sensual, polished, and haunting.

The amber adds a glowing warmth beneath. This note, more an accord than a raw material, is built from labdanum resin—often sourced from Mediterranean rockrose—combined with vanillin and benzoin. The resulting scent is rich, balsamic, and slightly leathery, echoing the golden radiance of candlelight on skin. Here, synthetic amber molecules such as Ambroxan or Cetalox likely enhance the depth and projection, lending the perfume a luminous, long-lasting trail that feels simultaneously ancient and futuristic.

Finally, French vanilla softens the intensity, wrapping the composition in a creamy, seductive warmth. The vanilla used here likely originates from Madagascar or Réunion (formerly Île Bourbon), where the climate and soil produce pods with particularly high concentrations of vanillin and p-hydroxybenzaldehyde, responsible for their complex sweetness and gentle spiciness. Dior’s perfumers enrich this natural vanilla with synthetic vanillin and ethyl vanillin to extend its radiance and give it a powdery, almost smoky quality—transforming it into something luxurious and enduring.

Together, these elements form an atmosphere rather than a mere fragrance—a chiaroscuro of scent. The citrus top notes flicker briefly, like sparks in the dark, before surrendering to the hypnotic heart of the black rose. The patchouli and amber then rise, enveloping the wearer in a sensual shadow, while the vanilla hums softly beneath, like the lingering warmth of skin after midnight.

Midnight Poison captures its name in scent: elegant danger, twilight sensuality, and the intoxicating calm of night’s embrace. It is both armor and adornment—refined yet feral, luminous yet shadowed—a perfume that turns the familiar symbol of the rose into something unexpected and thrilling. In the stillness of midnight, it blooms endlessly, dark and irresistible.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Around 2011, Midnight Poison underwent a quiet yet perceptible reformulation—an evolution marked visually by a subtle change: the once silver-toned collar encircling the bottle’s neck became gold-toned. To collectors and devoted wearers, this detail was more than a simple aesthetic adjustment—it symbolized a transformation within the fragrance itself. The original silver-collared version, launched in 2007, possessed a darker, more opulent character: its patchouli richer and earthier, its rose more velvety and resinous, its vanilla warmer, smoldering like the embers of midnight. The reformulated version, by contrast, emerged slightly lighter, more polished, and more transparent—reflecting the tightening regulations on certain raw materials in perfumery and Dior’s desire to modernize the scent while retaining its seductive identity.

While the gold-collared version maintained the recognizable DNA of Midnight Poison, aficionados noted the subtle shifts in tone. The patchouli seemed smoother, stripped of some of its deep, smoky undertones; the rose appeared less shadowed and more luminous; and the amber-vanilla accord leaned toward a cleaner, more crystalline sweetness. These refinements gave the perfume a slightly more contemporary air, yet softened its nocturnal mystique—the drama of the original distilled into something silkier, more wearable by daylight. Still, both versions retained that unmistakable chypre backbone: the meeting of dark woods, sultry florals, and glowing amber that made Midnight Poison both enchanting and unforgettable.

Sadly, by December 2013, Midnight Poison was officially discontinued, marking the end of an era in Dior’s Poison lineage. Its departure was felt deeply among perfume enthusiasts, who mourned not only the loss of a beautifully constructed fragrance but also the fading of a particular kind of perfumery—one that embraced depth, mystery, and cinematic sensuality. With its inky blue glass and hypnotic aura, Midnight Poison became an object of nostalgia, a reminder of Dior’s bolder creative years when perfumes were designed to linger like a memory, not merely to please in passing.

Today, surviving bottles—especially those with the silver collar—are cherished by collectors as relics of the fragrance’s original brilliance: a dark jewel from Dior’s most bewitching chapter, glowing softly in the memory of midnight.

BUYER BEWARE!

Beware of Fakes! Midnight Poison has been terribly faked. Here are some photos of a fake bottle and box that I had received in a large lot of Poison perfumes. There is no batch code on the bottle. I have found that the fake Midnight Poison boxes are imprinted with the same batch code "7J01".

The screenshot below is taken from my original Christian Dior Perfume Bottles Blog, now defunct.

Jules (1980)

Jules by Christian Dior, launched in 1980, was more than a new men’s fragrance — it was a statement of modern masculinity. Its name alone set it apart: “Jules,” pronounced zhool, is a French masculine given name, but more significantly, it functions in French slang as a term of endearment for “my man.” When a Frenchwoman says mon Jules, she’s speaking of her lover, her partner, her man of style and charm. The choice of this word — not overtly macho, but quietly confident and intimately familiar — gave the fragrance immediate personality. It evoked the image of a man who is desirable, independent, and effortlessly elegant. Jules wasn’t just a name. It was an identity.

Dior presented Jules as the scent for a new kind of man — one who defies convention, who isn’t content with the status quo. This was a man in pursuit of experience, of sensuality, of something different. A man who, in the words of the original ad campaign, “does what he wants to do.” Jules was created as a bolder, more assertively masculine counterpoint to the house’s earlier men’s fragrance, Eau Sauvage (1966). If Eau Sauvage was the polished French classic, Jules was its sportier, more rugged cousin — not wild, but worldly. Confident. Adventurous. Sensual.

The Jean Martel composed fragrance itself is classified as a woody fougère, but it breaks away from tradition by embracing leather, spice, and musky heat in more assertive proportions. The opening is green and herbaceous, a sharp and invigorating burst that evokes the scent of crushed leaves underfoot on a countryside walk. There’s a bracing freshness here — like the snap of clary sage, tarragon, or parsley — paired with peppery brightness and a touch of bitterness. It’s brisk and energizing, like a morning breeze off the coast.

This green sharpness soon transitions into the heart, where florals and woods emerge. The woody core is built around sandalwood and cedar, lending depth and texture. The floral element remains restrained — no lush bouquets here — but likely includes jasmine or geranium, offering a clean, peppery lift that supports the spicier tones. Threads of black pepper and clove add complexity, reinforcing the fragrance’s structure and giving it a masculine heat — assertive but never brash.

The base is where Jules truly distinguishes itself. It dries down into a warm, subtly animalic accord of oakmoss, amber, musk, and the key note that made it infamous: Russian leather. This leather accord is bold — smoky, slightly bitter, even a touch tarry — but refined, smoothed by creamy amber and softened by moss. It’s not rugged in the way of rawhide or suede, but rather like a well-worn leather jacket — lived-in, lived-with, and intensely personal.

The leather note, paired with musk, gives Jules a provocative, skin-like warmth that was both daring and sensual for its time. In fact, some critics and wearers in the early '80s found it almost too bold, a quality that only added to its mystique. It had a dual personality — described evocatively in marketing as both invigorating like ocean spray and calm like a serene harbor. This duality mirrored the changing identity of men in the late 1970s and early '80s: no longer just stoic providers, but evolving into individuals allowed to be sensual, expressive, even introspective.

The launch of Jules in 1980 came during a transitional moment in men’s fashion and fragrance. The late 1970s had seen the rise of more personal expression for men — longer hair, softer silhouettes, and greater attention to grooming. By 1980, the cultural pendulum began swinging toward a sharper, sportier ideal of masculinity: think sleek lines, athleticism, and control. This was the era that would soon give rise to the “power suit,” the fitness boom, and the rise of designer sportswear. In fragrance, this translated into brisk fougères, green chypres, leather-spice compositions, and musky woods.

In that context, Jules stood out. While it echoed the fougère structure that had been popular since the 1960s, it injected it with a sense of sensual boldness, a spicier, darker, more animalic character that made it memorable — and even controversial. It was more provocative than Azzaro Pour Homme (1978), more rugged than Grey Flannel (1975), and more daring than the clean citrus of Eau Sauvage. Jules was not trying to please everyone. It was designed for the man who already knew who he was.

Today, Jules is remembered as one of Dior’s boldest masculine launches. Its discontinuation in most markets has only added to its mystique. To wear Jules was — and still is — to wear something both refined and untamed. It was, as Dior promised, “the fragrance for the new man” — one who could be both elegant and raw, classic and modern, restrained and rebellious. And like its name, its scent was never literal, but rather evocative: a whisper of skin, spice, smoke, and the sea.

 

Launch:

Launched in 1980, Jules by Christian Dior was conceived as a modern, sporty complement to the house’s earlier success, Eau Sauvage. With its introduction, Dior sought to redefine masculine seduction for a new decade — offering a fragrance that was not only elegant and refined but also bold, fresh, and forward-thinking.

The debut took place in Cannes, France, and within the first year on the French market, Jules rose to an impressive third place in sales, trailing only behind Eau Sauvage and Paco Rabanne. This marked it as a notable commercial success and a fragrance that clearly resonated with the changing tastes of contemporary men.

The scent itself was classified as a woody fougère, a category popular at the time, but it brought its own distinct personality. It opened with a fresh, green, spicy-herbaceous burst — invigorating and lively. The heart carried subtle floral and woody notes, while the base grounded the composition with leathery, musky, and mossy tones. Oakmoss and Russian leather lent a provocative edge, while sandalwood and cedar brought warmth and depth. It was brisk and clean, yet warm and sensual — a duality designed to appeal to the man who defied convention.

Jules was intended for men who sought more than the status quo — those who were driven, imaginative, and unafraid of embracing a modern identity. The name itself, “Jules,” has no direct translation in French, but in slang, “Mon Jules” is a familiar and flirtatious expression used by women to refer to their sweetheart, lover, or stylish male companion. This subtle double entendre added a layer of charm and mischief to the fragrance, a wink to the Frenchman who knows how to captivate without effort.

Panama was the first Latin American country — even before the United States — to launch Jules, in April 1980. Christian Dior’s exclusive Latin American distributor, Agencias Motta, oversaw the introduction. The full product line included cologne, aftershave, soap, and deodorant, all presented in sleek, smoked-glass bottles that echoed the fragrance’s modern masculinity. The rounded form was designed for comfort and ease in the hand, reinforcing the tactile appeal of this luxurious yet functional product.

In November 1980, Dior’s International Demonstrator, Nadine Joyaux, arrived in Panama to present the line personally, underlining the brand's commitment to its international launch strategy. Later, in May 1981, Jules was introduced to both the United Kingdom and Canada.

Interestingly, Dior chose not to launch the fragrance in the United States or Mexico — a strategic decision confirmed in 1983 by the brand itself, which stated: "Jules is only available in Europe." The reasons behind this limited distribution may have had to do with market positioning, consumer trends, or concerns about the fragrance's bold profile, which might not have aligned with the more conservative tastes of the American market at the time.

The Australian launch was staged with theatrical flair. Guests dined at Doyle’s Restaurant on the pier at Watson’s Bay while three windsurfers with “Jules” emblazoned sails glided by. Frenchman Eric Le Tourneur d’Ison, Dior’s international advertising and publicity director, flew in to oversee the event. He offered an evocative interpretation of the name, explaining how when a French woman whispers “Mon Jules,” it’s often a fantasy name — a term of endearment she might use for her lover, no matter his real name. The phrase evokes affection, intimacy, and a playful romance — perfectly capturing the essence of Dior’s fragrance.

In the context of perfumery at the turn of the 1980s — a period defined by bold expressions of masculinity, athleticism, and individuality — Jules stood out for both its confident composition and its evocative branding. It arrived during a time when fashion and fragrance were embracing sporty sensuality, moving away from the reserved elegance of previous decades. The fragrance reflected a man in motion: urban yet natural, adventurous yet composed.

Ultimately, Jules wasn’t just a fragrance; it was a statement — a scented expression of a new kind of man, who was modern, self-assured, and wholly his own.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Jules by Christian Dior is classified as a light leathery woody fougere fragrance for men. It begins with a fresh spicy, herbaceous top, followed by a woody floral heart, resting on a warm, leathery, mossy base. Strong, woodsy, sharp - oakmoss

• Top notes: angelica seeds, caraway, English artemisia, Alpine lavender, Indian cumin, green note, Calabrian bergamot, Provençal mastic, wormwood, laurel
• Middle notes: Ceylon cardamom, Jamaican black pepper, Zanzibar clove, Persian galbanum, French carnation, Hungarian clary sage, Egyptian jasmine, cyclamen, Lebanese cedar, Spanish basil, Bulgarian rose and Mysore sandalwood
• Base notes: Simali olibanum, Canadian castoreum, Malabar black pepper, Provencal lentisk, Singapore patchouli, Russian leather, Siberian fir, Venezuelan tonka bean, coumarin, Tyrolean oakmoss, ambergris, suede and Tonkin musk

 

Singapore Business, Volumes 5-6, 1981:

"Christian Dior's newly launched fragrances Jules depicts the lifestyle of the '80s: liberated, bold and exciting. The Jules fragrance is self assertive, positive, with instant appeal. On first contact it evokes a clean, refreshing, green, country fragrance derived from such essences as lentisk from Provence, sclaree sage, lavender, galbanum, angelica seeds. As the first notes fade, the deeper fragrances take over: rich, woody scents from such exotic essences as Mysore sandalwood, Lebanese cedar, Singapore patchouli. Amber and musk blend to give it its incomparable lasting property and join with Russian leather to affirm its personality and strengthen its reach. Warm and gently provocative spices such as clove, black pepper and cardamom heighten its appeal to the senses."

Scent Profile:

Jules by Christian Dior (1980) opens with a vivid and commanding freshness — bold, green, and deeply aromatic. The very first breath delivers the pungent snap of angelica seeds, a note at once earthy and peppery, slightly musky and tinged with celery. It merges beautifully with the slightly nutty warmth of caraway, and the bitter-green sharpness of English artemisia, also known as wormwood, which gives the fragrance an herbal, slightly absinthe-like clarity.

Then comes a vivid burst of Alpine lavender, a variety grown at high altitudes and prized for its clearer, more refined camphoraceous tone, which feels crisp and almost windswept — like walking through a mountain meadow. Indian cumin, with its warm, slightly sweaty spice, adds a human sensuality, grounding the brisk green with a pulse of heat. The green note — likely an accord built on synthetics like cis-3-hexenol — captures the crushed-stem freshness of green leaves and garden herbs, offering a breath of raw vitality. Calabrian bergamot, sunlit and lightly bitter, weaves through the top with a citrusy lift that lends radiance and polish, while laurel, with its slightly metallic and eucalyptus-like profile, infuses structure. The note of wormwood, in tandem with artemisia, reinforces a sense of dry bitterness, while subtly echoing the sophistication of vintage masculine colognes.

As the top subsides, the heart opens with spice and warmth. Ceylon cardamom, with its green lemony brightness, carries the composition forward with a cool, aromatic edge. The deep, smoky heat of Jamaican black pepper and the full-bodied clove oil from Zanzibar — both grown in equatorial, volcanic soils — bring warmth and a sense of spiced intrigue. These are softened and deepened by the oily, resinous richness of Persian galbanum, an intensely green note with leathery undertones, almost pine-like in its density. French carnation, laced with eugenol, gives a clove-like floral sharpness that is unmistakably masculine, while Hungarian clary sage offers herbaceous depth and a musky, ambered softness that anchors the spices in roundness.

Interwoven through the floral notes are Egyptian jasmine, creamy and warm, more animalic than airy, and Bulgarian rose, deep and slightly spicy — not sweet, but rich and grown-up. Cyclamen contributes a clean, dewy airiness — almost synthetic in its lightness — but here it serves to lift the denser middle notes and keep them from becoming too dark. The woody core is structured with Lebanese cedar, dry, sawdusty, and papery — a refined cedar that feels less sweet than its American cousin. Spanish basil, sharp and green, blends with the sage and cardamom in a thread of aromatic sophistication, while Mysore sandalwood, creamy, sacred, and rich in lactones, rounds the heart with a soft, skin-like warmth. The Mysore variety, now nearly extinct due to overharvesting, was once prized for its milky, nutty richness that no synthetic can fully replicate.

As Jules dries down, the base notes unfold with a masculine sensuality. Simali olibanum, a rare, lemony frankincense note from Somalia, lends its smoky balsamic beauty, rising like incense over skin. Canadian castoreum (ethically sourced in trace quantities or recreated synthetically) adds the unmistakable animalic warmth — leathery, smoky, and sensual — while Malabar black pepper, sharp and dry, continues the thread of spice from the heart. Provencal lentisk, also known as mastic resin, imparts a green, piney, and slightly salty nuance, giving the base a Mediterranean twist.

Singapore patchouli, darker and earthier than Indonesian types, blends beautifully with Russian leather, evoking the supple richness of tanned hides, dark and enigmatic. Siberian fir, cold and bracing, contributes an icy coniferous sharpness, while Venezuelan tonka bean, with its hay-like sweetness and natural coumarin content, wraps the base in creamy softness. Additional coumarin enriches this with a powdery, almond-like accent, often found in classic fougères.

The drydown is further textured with ambergris (likely an accord using ambroxan), lending a salty, radiant warmth that diffuses beautifully on skin, and suede, a softer interpretation of leather, which smooths the sharp edges of the earlier notes. Tonkin musk, whether natural or in this case a synthetic recreation, brings an animalic whisper — a warm, almost intimate skin scent that lingers. Tyrolean oakmoss, grown in the forests of the Austrian Alps, gives Jules its distinctive chypre-like character: deep, bitter, earthy, and grounding — the quintessential masculine anchor.

Jules is not simply a scent — it is a portrait of elegance with a wild, untamed edge. Through its interplay of crisp herbs, dry spices, floral sharpness, and resinous, leathery warmth, it speaks to a man who is confident, worldly, and unafraid of complexity. The use of natural materials from diverse corners of the globe is bolstered by masterful synthetic artistry — allowing the boldness of leather, the bite of spices, and the radiance of woods to shine longer, with more clarity, than nature alone could ever offer. It’s smooth, strong, sophisticated — a fragrance with spine and spirit.

Product Line:

The original Jules product line was designed to offer a complete grooming experience, each item tailored to evoke the bold, sophisticated scent profile of the original fragrance in a variety of textures and functions. From fragrance to skincare and personal hygiene, the line delivered a harmonious and cohesive olfactory identity, reinterpreted through multiple formats to suit the modern man’s routine.

The Eau de Toilette, available in both 50ml and 100ml splash bottles as well as a 100ml spray, came housed in a sleek, smoky glass bottle. Its subtly curved form was designed for comfort, fitting naturally in the hand and reinforcing the product's masculine yet refined identity. The splash format offered a traditional, more tactile application, appealing to those who enjoy a generous dose of fragrance applied directly to the skin. In contrast, the spray version provided ease and precision, perfect for a more modern, mess-free routine.

The After Shave products—offered in 50ml and 100ml—were created to soothe and lightly scent the skin after shaving. The splash version provided an invigorating, bracing finish that toned the skin, while the spray format offered convenience and uniform application. Both maintained the integrity of the Jules scent but in a more diluted, skin-soothing concentration.

Complementing the fragrance and aftershave were practical, everyday grooming items infused with the signature Jules scent. The 100g soap, sold in sets of three, offered a rich lather and subtly perfumed the skin while cleansing. The soap was crafted to be gentle, with a smooth texture and balanced pH for daily use.

The 100g talc provided a touch of powdery elegance, absorbing moisture while leaving a soft veil of fragrance on the skin. This was particularly useful for maintaining freshness in warmer climates or during active days, extending the life of the scent.

The 50g deodorant stick and 100ml deodorant spray were formulated for long-lasting protection and freshness. The stick version was compact and travel-friendly, with a non-irritating base ideal for sensitive skin, while the spray offered a lighter, more immediate burst of scent.

For shaving and showering, the line included a 200ml shaving foam, delivering a rich, cushiony lather that helped the razor glide smoothly while perfuming the skin subtly. The 150ml bath and shower gel provided a daily ritual of indulgence, leaving the skin feeling clean and lightly scented, preparing the body to layer other Jules products for lasting effect.

Together, this full grooming range created a luxurious, cohesive fragrance experience — from the morning shave to the evening splash of cologne — allowing the wearer to immerse himself fully in the elegant, bold identity of Jules.

In 1984/1985, Jules was available in the following formats:

• Products: Eau de Toilette (3 sizes) splash, spray, and travel size
• Shaving Products: Aftershave lotion (2 sizes); Aftershave spray; Aftershave balm; Shaving cream (with or without brush); Shaving foam
• Ancillary products: Deodorant spray; Soaps; Dry spray deodorant; Deodorant stick; Travel kits

In 1990/1991, Jules was available in the following formats:

• Products: Eau de Toilette 
• Shaving Products: Aftershave
• Ancillary Products: Deodorant 

Fate of the Fragrance:

Launched in 1980, Jules by Christian Dior was introduced as a bold, modern fragrance for men—designed to embody a new style of masculine elegance. While the exact date of its discontinuation remains unclear, Jules continued to be available through at least 1987, as evidenced by retail listings and advertisements from that time. Though it eventually faded from Dior’s core offerings, its distinctive woody fougère character, combined with its refined product line, left a lasting impression on those who sought something daring yet refined in men’s perfumery.

2016 Reformulation & Relaunch:

In 2016, Dior reintroduced Jules with a modernized formula crafted by in-house perfumer François Demachy. This reformulation reimagined the classic as an aromatic green fragrance, retaining the spirit of the original while streamlining it for contemporary tastes. Demachy approached the composition as an homage—respectfully echoing the vintage structure but with a lighter, more refined hand. The result was a reinterpretation that preserved Jules’ masculine elegance and herbal freshness, but with smoother transitions, cleaner lines, and a more polished wear. While the original had leaned heavily into leathery moss and animalic warmth, the 2016 version softened these facets, offering a fresher and more luminous take that still nodded to the distinctive legacy of the original.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? The 2016 version of Jules is classified as an aromatic green fragrance for men.

• Top notes: Iranian galbanum, herbal notes
• Middle notes: cyclamen, hedione, Indian black pepper
• Base notes: fir, leather, American cedar

Scent Profile:

The 2016 reformulation of Jules reintroduces Dior’s classic aromatic green fragrance through a modern lens—one shaped not only by the evolution of olfactory trends but by the changing landscape of perfumery regulation. This new interpretation, created by François Demachy, pays homage to the original 1980 scent while observing strict IFRA safety restrictions that limit or prohibit many of the deeper, animalic, and mossy ingredients that gave the original its distinctive, provocative edge. The result is an elegantly pared-down structure: green and herbaceous, airy yet textured, and unmistakably clean.

From the first breath, you're greeted with a sharply green and resinous opening, unmistakably from Iranian galbanum, which brings a pungent, bitter verdancy with a wet, forest-floor quality. Galbanum from Iran is particularly prized for its depth and complexity—more balsamic and earthy than galbanum sourced elsewhere, with a crystalline brightness that slices clean through the top. Here, it's softened by a medley of herbal notes—likely a blend of artemisia, sage, or lavender—that diffuse the intensity, creating a brisk, invigorating start. This bright greenness pays tribute to the original Jules' assertive top, though stripped of the animalic cumin that gave the vintage version its polarizing punch. Cumin, once a key spicy flourish, has been omitted—either by choice or necessity—since its use is now much more conservative in modern compositions due to its intense, sweat-like profile.

As the top fades, the scent transitions into a cooler, more transparent heart. Cyclamen, a delicate floral often recreated synthetically due to its non-distillable nature, adds a lightly watery and petal-like nuance—a soft breath of spring air. This is where Hedione steps in as a major player. A synthetic compound derived from methyl dihydrojasmonate, Hedione mimics the diffusive, radiant qualities of jasmine without the allergens present in natural jasmine absolute (now restricted under IFRA due to the presence of benzyl salicylate and benzyl alcohol). Hedione provides the heart of Jules with lift and luminosity—an almost ethereal floralcy that gives the fragrance air and projection, expanding its reach like sunlight through leaves. It doesn’t smell of flowers directly—it smells of space around flowers, of breathable clarity.

Into this clean floral heart, Indian black pepper cuts through with a dry, piquant warmth. Pepper from India tends to be more fragrant and complex than its counterparts, offering not just heat, but a touch of citrus and woody sharpness. Here, it gives Jules an edge, a masculine backbone in contrast to the sheer florals, and cleverly replaces the more overtly sweaty spices of the original—most notably cumin—which are largely avoided in modern reworkings due to their divisiveness and tighter safety constraints.

As the fragrance settles, it reveals a dry, woody base that is significantly more refined than the original. The mossy, animalic signature of 1980s Jules—once built on oakmoss, castoreum, and tonka—has been entirely restructured. Natural oakmoss, a key player in vintage masculines, is now heavily restricted by IFRA because of the allergens atranol and chloroatranol, and castoreum, once derived from beaver glands, has long been retired on ethical and safety grounds. In their place, Demachy uses a clean coniferous blend: fir, likely in the form of fir balsam or a synthetic recreation, and American cedar, which brings a dry, almost pencil-shaving woodiness. Fir adds a subtly camphoraceous, resinous depth, evoking sap and evergreen needles, while American cedar, often Virginian or Texan, contributes a clean, dry structure that anchors the fragrance in crisp masculinity. The leather accord, once a dark, smoky component possibly colored by birch tar or castoreum, is now achieved synthetically—likely with isobutyl quinoline or modern leather aroma molecules that suggest the softness of worn suede without the dirt or musk.

What’s notably absent is the animal growl of the original: no civet, no real musk, no earthy oakmoss. Instead, the base is polite, well-groomed, and urbane. The clean leather, cool woods, and soft resinous greens are much more in line with current sensibilities—and IFRA-compliant. Any remaining musk in the drydown is almost certainly synthetic—possibly ambrettolide or muscenone—offering a skin-like warmth without the animalic traits of natural musk, which is now banned in perfumery.

In total, this 2016 Jules is more restrained, more transparent, and significantly less animalic than its predecessor. It retains a green, woody structure but trades the vintage’s wild, provocative streak for polish and accessibility. Where the original Jules was bold, sweaty, and slightly dangerous, the reformulation is refined, luminous, and tailored—still green, still assertive, but with the wild edges sanded down to meet both modern taste and modern safety standards.

Pure Poison (2004)

Pure Poison by Christian Dior: launched in 2004. It was created by Carlos Benaim, Dominique Ropion and Olivier Polge.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? It is classified as a white floral fragrance for women.

• Top notes: Sicilian mandarin, sweet orange, bergamot, and jasmine 
• Middle notes: gardenia, and orange blossom 
• Base notes: musk, cedarwood, sandalwood, and white amber

Bottles:

Pure Poison appears to have had a reformulation around 2011. When this reformulation occured, the perfume repackaged in a new bottle.

Beware of Fakes! Pure Poison has been terribly faked. Here are some photos of a fake bottle and box that I had received in a large lot of Poison perfumes. All bottles were factory sealed in cellophane. I have found that the fake Pure Poison boxes are imprinted with the same batch code "8U02" and the bottle has a different batch code, "6F01" . Shown in comparison is my own bottle of genuine Pure Poison.

 Notice the major difference in the finishes on the glass. On the real bottle, it is very opalescent and gives a double image to the lettering on the bottle. The fake has a very opaque white finish with very little opalescence, there is no double image to the font. Also notice the base of the real bottle has a nice, thick, clear glass, this is not seen on the fake.

 Here is a nice example of the sprayers. The fake one has a silver spray head, while the genuine has a matching collar and spray head.

 Another view of the spray heads and again, you can see the difference in the glass.

 Differences in the font. On the fake, the lettering is slightly bolder, especially on the word Poison. Again, you can see the mirroring double image of the wording on the genuine.

 Notice the differences in the labels on the base. The fake actually has the label for Tendre Poison Eau de Toilette!! On the genuine all wording is in white, on the fake, it is a goldish color. Notice the major differences in the molding and pearlized finish on the glass too. The genuine bottle has a highly reflective rainbow effect.

 The mold lines on the fake are very pronounced and not smooth as on the genuine bottle, plus the opalescence is all wrong on the fake.

Hypnotic Poison (1998)

Launched in 1998 as a flanker to Dior’s iconic Poison of 1985, Hypnotic Poison was conceived as a modern interpretation of seduction and danger—two themes deeply rooted in the DNA of the Poison line. The name itself, Hypnotic Poison, fuses two powerful words that instantly provoke curiosity and allure. Hypnotic, derived from the Greek word hypnos, meaning “sleep,” conveys the sense of being entranced, spellbound, or placed under a mesmerizing charm. In everyday English pronunciation, it sounds as it reads—hip-NOT-ik POY-zuhn—and the combination of these words suggests something dangerously beautiful, capable of both fascination and destruction. The imagery it evokes is that of a dark enchantress, a woman who captivates and disarms through sensuality and mystery.

The late 1990s, when Hypnotic Poison was released, marked a period of transformation in fashion and culture. This was the end of an era dominated by minimalist aesthetics—think of Calvin Klein’s pared-down style and the understated fragrances of the decade such as CK One (1994). However, by the late ’90s, there was a growing yearning for warmth, sensuality, and a return to deeper, more emotional experiences. The world was approaching a new millennium, and there was a fascination with both the futuristic and the primal. In perfumery, gourmand notes—sweet, edible accords often featuring vanilla, almond, and caramel—were becoming increasingly popular following the success of Angel by Thierry Mugler (1992).

In this context, Dior’s Hypnotic Poison, composed by perfumer Annick Menardo, stood out as both timely and distinctive. Classified as an oriental vanilla fragrance, it opened with lush notes of almond and jasmine, deepening into creamy vanilla, musk, and sandalwood. It offered a velvety sweetness balanced by the faint bitterness of almond and the warmth of woods, creating an addictive, almost edible sensuality. It embodied the new wave of gourmand oriental perfumes while maintaining Dior’s signature sophistication.

 

For women of the time, Hypnotic Poison represented a bold statement of confidence and sensuality. The name alone—rich in paradox—suggested both desire and danger, echoing the complex identity of the late 20th-century woman who could be soft yet strong, alluring yet independent. The fragrance captured the essence of mystery and temptation, the idea that beauty could be both irresistible and perilous.

In scent form, “Hypnotic Poison” could be interpreted as the olfactory equivalent of a forbidden dessert or an intoxicating spell—creamy vanilla entwined with the bitter-sweetness of almond and the comforting warmth of musk. It was a scent that lingered like a whisper, seductive yet familiar, exotic yet intimate. Unlike the overt power scents of the 1980s, Hypnotic Poison seduced through softness and depth rather than volume.

Though it followed the gourmand trend of the decade, it managed to carve out a distinctive identity through its balance of sweetness and sensual mystery. Hypnotic Poison remains one of the most recognizable fragrances of its era—an embodiment of late-1990s femininity, where danger and desire met under the spell of Dior’s red apple-shaped bottle.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Hypnotic Poison is classified as an oriental vanilla fragrance for women.

• Top notes: caraway, allspice, apricot, plum and coconut
• Middle notes: tuberose, sambac jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, rose and Brazilian rosewood
• Base notes: jacaranda wood, musk, sandalwood, bitter almond, and vanilla

Scent Profile:

To encounter Hypnotic Poison by Christian Dior is to step into a world of temptation woven from both nature and artifice, where sweetness flirts with danger and softness conceals intensity. Created by perfumer Annick Menardo, the fragrance is classified as an oriental vanilla—lush, warm, and mysterious. From the very first inhalation, one senses that this perfume was not merely composed, but conjured.

It opens with an exotic interplay of spices and fruits, a blend that feels both edible and forbidden. The caraway—a spice often mistaken for cumin—lends an aromatic sharpness with hints of anise and pepper, awakening the senses like a whisper of warmth against cool skin. Its essential oil contains carvone and limonene, molecules responsible for its dry, spicy freshness that perfectly balances the denser sweetness to come. The allspice, sourced from the West Indies, introduces its unique complexity; its oil contains eugenol and methyl eugenol, the same molecules that lend cloves and cinnamon their sensual heat. Here, they unfurl like a slow ember, a prelude to indulgence. 

Then comes the lush, sun-ripened apricot—its aroma creamy and velvety, created through natural fruit extract enhanced by lactonic molecules such as γ-undecalactone, which deepen its fleshy warmth. This is joined by the dark juiciness of plum, whose natural benzaldehyde and β-ionone compounds evoke both wine-like richness and soft, purple velvet. The coconut, likely sourced from tropical islands where its oil is most aromatic, adds a milk-like smoothness—its creamy facet bolstered by synthetic lactones that amplify the illusion of sun-warmed skin.

As the perfume unfolds, the heart reveals a lush floral tapestry. The tuberose, often called the “flower of seduction,” is narcotic and buttery, filled with indolic molecules and methyl salicylate, giving it that intoxicating mix of cream and spice. The sambac jasmine, harvested in India, contrasts it with a more radiant sensuality—its indoles lending an animalic undertone, while benzyl acetate and linalool provide the airy sweetness that feels like a sigh. 

The lily-of-the-valley, or muguet, is represented synthetically, as its natural essence cannot be extracted; molecules such as hydroxycitronellal and Lilial recreate its dewy-green brightness, adding lift and purity amid the sultry florals. The rose, likely Bulgarian or Turkish, imparts a romantic softness with geraniol, citronellol, and phenylethyl alcohol—all responsible for that familiar velvety sweetness. Threading through these blooms is Brazilian rosewood, a now-rare material prized for its rosy, slightly spicy woodiness due to its high linalool content. It bridges the transition from floral to woody, tying nature and artifice together seamlessly.

As the fragrance settles into its base, Hypnotic Poison becomes more intimate, enveloping, and addictive. The mysterious jacaranda wood introduces a violet-toned woodiness reminiscent of dark polished furniture warmed by sunlight, its scent a combination of faint florals and resin. The musk, originally animalic but now entirely synthetic, softens the structure with its clean yet sensual warmth—modern musks such as galaxolide and muscone mimic the comforting scent of skin, enhancing the natural floral sweetness while grounding it. Sandalwood, often sourced from India or Australia, lends its creamy, milky depth—its santalols giving a soft, meditative warmth that perfectly complements the gourmand facets.

Then comes the signature of Hypnotic Poison: bitter almond and vanilla. The almond note, built on benzaldehyde and heliotropin, smells of marzipan tinged with a subtle bitterness—sweet yet restrained, echoing the theme of temptation. The vanilla, likely from Madagascar, provides the golden thread running through the entire composition. Its vanillin and p-hydroxybenzaldehyde compounds deliver not only sweetness, but a creamy balsamic richness that feels both comforting and carnal. Synthetic vanillin amplifies this natural aroma, enhancing its longevity and warmth, turning the vanilla from a simple note into a hypnotic pulse that lingers on the skin.

Together, these elements form a scent that is both magnetic and disarming—a blend of innocence and danger. Hypnotic Poison seduces not through sharpness or overt drama, but through a slow, enveloping warmth that deepens with time. It smells like silk and sun-kissed skin, like sweet confections spiced with secrets. Each note intertwines seamlessly—natural ingredients illuminated by carefully chosen synthetics—to create a fragrance that feels alive, endlessly evolving, and truly, hypnotic.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Hypnotic Poison appears to have had a reformulation around 2006, then again in 2009 in a new bottle, it was also reformulated and repackaged in 2010.

The original version and the reformulation from 2006 and packaged in the matte red bottles with the "rubbery" coating, topped by a black cap and has a red collar. The Second reformulation in 2009 saw Hypnotic Poison housed in a glossy opaque red bottle without the rubber coating, it still has a black cap, but now sports a gold collar instead of the red. The current reformulation is housed in an opaque burgundy bottle with purple shading at the base, this bottle is topped with a deep purple cap and retains the gold collar of the previous edition.

The many faces of Hypnotic Poison:

Beware of Fakes! Hypnotic Poison has been terribly faked. Here are some photos of a fake bottle and box that I had received in a large lot of Poison perfumes. I have found that the fake Hypnotic Poison boxes are imprinted with the same batch code "6F02" and the bottle has no batch code. Shown in comparison is my own bottle of genuine Hypnotic Poison.

 Notice the slight color difference and the lettering

 Notice the difference in the collars and spray head.

 Another view of the collars and spray heads. Also the fake bottle does not have the rubbery coating on the glass.

 Notice the difference in the labels. On the genuine, the lettering is in a circular design following the shape of the bottle, whereas on the fake, it resembles the type of lettering shown on other Poison bottles. Also, the base on the fake has a strange circular mold line,not present on the genuine bottle, which is smooth.

 On genuine bottles, the batch code will be printed or etched into the glass, on the fakes, they are missing batch codes.

 On the fake, we can see a weird black mark in the glass or on the finish.

 The mold lines on the fake are more pronounced and not smooth as they are on the genuine bottle. Also a slight color change.

 The underside of the caps also have differences, the genuine cap is thicker but the top is opaque so you can see light through it, the fake does not display this same property.

The screenshot below is taken from my original Christian Dior Perfume Bottles Blog, now defunct.

Tendre Poison (1994)

When Christian Dior launched Tendre Poison in 1994, it marked the brand’s first official flanker to the iconic Poison (1985). The name alone—Tendre Poison—sets the tone for its dual nature. In French, tendre means “tender” or “gentle,” and poison needs no translation. Pronounced in English as "TAHN-druh PWAH-zohn", the name forms a poetic contradiction: a “gentle poison,” something at once delicate and dangerous, soft yet potent. It evokes images of a pale green elixir held in a crystalline vial—sweet temptation with a whisper of risk.

The early 1990s were a time of cultural refinement following the excesses of the 1980s. The fashion world had begun to favor minimalism and lightness: sleek silhouettes, sheer fabrics, and an understated elegance that defined the decade’s aesthetic. Perfume trends followed this shift. The “power scents” of the previous decade—dense orientals and booming chypres—gave way to cleaner, fresher, and more transparent compositions. Green florals and watery notes dominated the shelves, reflecting a broader cultural desire for clarity, freshness, and modern femininity.

It was within this atmosphere that Tendre Poison made its debut. Dior, recognizing the shift, sought to reimagine the opulence of Poison for a generation that preferred whisper to roar. As Mirabella magazine observed in 1993, insiders jokingly called it “Diet Poison”—a clever nod to its softer, greener character. Marketed only as an Eau de Toilette, in both spray and splash forms, it was designed to appeal to younger consumers and to loyal Dior clients who found the original Poison too intense for daily wear.

Created by perfumer Édouard Fléchier, Tendre Poison is classified as a crisp floral-green fragrance. From its first breath, it exudes freshness—galbanum lending a sharp, green bite reminiscent of crushed leaves at dawn, softened by the luminous sweetness of mandarin blossom. Freesia adds a dewy transparency, airy and modern, while a bouquet of delicate florals unfolds with elegant restraint. Beneath this freshness, subtle undertones of sandalwood and vanilla create warmth and depth, grounding the airy florals without diminishing their clarity. The contrast between these elements—the brisk greenness against a tender creamy base—mirrors the tension within its name: gentle, yet with a trace of danger.

For women of the 1990s, Tendre Poison would have felt both sophisticated and approachable. It carried Dior’s heritage of glamour yet reflected the modern woman’s preference for lighter, more versatile fragrances. The advertising and presentation—set in tones of fresh green—conveyed purity, freshness, and a sense of effortless allure. The idea of a “tender poison” resonated with the evolving identity of femininity at the time: no longer defined solely by power or provocation, but by subtle confidence and quiet strength.

In scent, Tendre Poison interprets its name through contradiction: the sharp, green clarity of galbanum and freesia expresses its tendre side, while the creamy wood-vanilla base introduces a lingering, seductive undertone—the poison. It is a perfume that tempts through transparency, a whisper of danger wrapped in softness.

Within the landscape of 1990s perfumery, Tendre Poison aligned with the decade’s movement toward light florals but distinguished itself through its craftsmanship and Dior’s unmistakable refinement. Where others offered simplicity, Tendre Poison offered poise—a composition that managed to be luminous, elegant, and quietly intoxicating.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Tendre Poison is classified as a a crisp floral-green fragrance for women.

• Top notes: Brazilian rosewood, asafoetida, mandarin orange, galbanum and tangerine
• Middle notes: rose, freesia, tuberose, honey, and orange blossom
• Base notes: heliotrope, sandalwood, musk, and vanilla

Scent Profile:

To experience Tendre Poison by Christian Dior is to breathe in the tension between softness and strength, nature and artifice, innocence and danger. Created by perfumer Édouard Fléchier, this crisp floral-green fragrance reveals its character gradually, like the unfurling of a petal in morning light—at first cool and green, then tenderly floral, and finally, warm and languorous. Every ingredient contributes to this subtle balance, each note lending its texture, origin, and chemistry to Dior’s idea of a “gentle poison.”

The opening is fresh yet complex, a bright green shimmer that immediately intrigues. The first note—Brazilian rosewood—is unlike any ordinary wood. Once prized for fine cabinetry and instruments, this endangered material was chosen for its naturally rosy, slightly peppery scent, rich in linalool, a molecule responsible for its soft, floral-woody tone. It lends the fragrance an elegant polish, a natural luminosity that sets the stage for the unfolding greenery. Then comes asafoetida, an unexpected choice—a resinous material from the roots of Ferula asafoetida grown in Iran or Afghanistan. Though pungent in raw form, its minute use here provides a subtle animalic warmth, giving the perfume a faintly musky undertone that enriches its freshness rather than overwhelming it.

The citrus heart of the opening sparkles with vitality. The mandarin orange, likely sourced from Italy’s Calabria or Sicily, brings its sun-drenched sweetness—bright and juicy, with high levels of limonene and gamma-terpinene, molecules responsible for that vibrant, effervescent lift. The tangerine, softer and slightly more floral than mandarin, complements it beautifully with its own blend of citral and aldehydes, lending a gentle sparkle and transparency. These notes are framed by galbanum, one of perfumery’s most distinctive green materials. Derived from a Persian plant resin, galbanum is piercing, earthy, and sappy—its aroma molecules, cis-3-hexenol and octanol, evoke freshly cut stems and crushed leaves. In Tendre Poison, this note gives the fragrance its backbone: cool, green, and almost sharp at first, like the first breath of spring air. The interplay between natural galbanum and synthetic green aldehydes enhances this crispness, ensuring that the verdant top remains luminous and airy rather than heavy.

As the heart emerges, the floral character begins to bloom—lush but not overwhelming. Freesia, with its clean, dewy transparency, adds a sense of modernity. Because natural freesia cannot be extracted, its scent is recreated through synthetics such as linalool, beta-ionone, and hydroxycitronellal, capturing its watery, floral brightness. Tuberose, often from India, adds a richer, creamier layer. Naturally heavy with methyl benzoate and indole, it brings a touch of sensuality—softened here so as not to dominate, more silk than velvet. Rose lends timeless elegance; likely from Bulgaria or Turkey, its citronellol and geraniol content contribute a delicate warmth and powdery sweetness. Orange blossom, distilled from the bitter orange trees of Tunisia or Morocco, introduces a honeyed freshness through linalyl acetate and nerol, shimmering with light. Its connection to honey, a note also present in this composition, creates a soft gourmand accent that feels intimate and tactile, a natural sweetness deepened by traces of phenylacetic acid, one of honey’s aromatic components.

As Tendre Poison dries down, it softens into a cocoon of warmth and gentle sensuality. The heliotrope, known for its almond-vanilla scent, carries heliotropin—a powdery, slightly sugary molecule that evokes the comfort of sun-warmed skin. Sandalwood, likely from Mysore in India, brings a smooth, creamy depth through santalol, adding both warmth and structure. Dior enhances this natural wood with modern synthetic sandalwood molecules such as polysantol or javanol, giving the base a longer-lasting, velvety texture. Musk, now entirely synthetic, provides the clean sensuality of skin itself; molecules such as galaxolide and muscone round and smooth the floral edges, creating that soft, second-skin effect. Finally, vanilla, sourced from Madagascar, lends its lush, balsamic sweetness. Its main component, vanillin, is amplified by synthetic counterparts to heighten its creaminess and endurance, tying the entire fragrance together with a lingering, golden warmth.

The result is a perfume that feels effortlessly elegant and gently magnetic. Tendre Poison smells like fresh leaves brushed with morning dew, soft petals warmed by sunlight, and skin kissed with a trace of honeyed vanilla. It embodies contrast—the sharp green of galbanum against the plush warmth of sandalwood and vanilla, the airy innocence of freesia balanced by the quiet seduction of tuberose. In this harmonious duality lies its magic: Tendre Poison is a fragrance that whispers rather than shouts, tender in name and nature, yet with an undeniable undercurrent of allure—a gentle poison that lingers softly, irresistibly, in the memory.

Bottles:

The bottle design for Tendre Poison follows the iconic silhouette first created for Dior’s Poison by designer Véronique Monod. Retaining the distinctive apple-like form—rounded, sensuous, and slightly dangerous—it perfectly complements the dual nature of the fragrance itself. The curves of the flacon suggest temptation, while its transparent green glass evokes purity, freshness, and a whisper of the natural world. Where the original Poison gleamed in deep amethyst glass, Tendre Poison wears a lighter, crystalline green, as though sunlight had filtered through the darkness, softening its intensity. The gold-toned neck and translucent cap lend a touch of luxury and refinement, creating a balance between Dior’s signature opulence and the fragrance’s more delicate personality.

Upon its release, Tendre Poison was available in a select range of Eau de Toilette formats that reflected Dior’s attention to both collectability and practicality. The line included a 1.7 oz Eau de Toilette Splash, designed for elegant ritual application; a 0.17 oz Eau de Toilette Spray Mini (limited edition) and a 1 oz Eau de Toilette Spray (limited edition)—both prized today for their rarity and charm; and the classic 1.7 oz and 3.4 oz Eau de Toilette Sprays, ideal for everyday wear. Completing the collection was the 6.8 oz Perfumed Body Lotion, allowing the wearer to extend the fragrance experience through layering—a hallmark of Dior’s luxurious perfume ritual.

In 1995, Dior expanded Tendre Poison into a full bath and body collection, deepening the sensory experience and reaffirming its place as a complete expression of refined femininity. This extension included a 6.8 oz Perfumed Body Cream, rich and velvety, that enveloped the skin in a lasting veil of fragrance; a 6.8 oz Bath & Shower Gel, which transformed bathing into a soft, fragrant immersion; and a 120-gram Perfumed Dusting Powder, a particularly elegant touch that recalled Dior’s mid-century heritage of luxury toiletries. Each product carried the same tender green hue and subtle golden accents, echoing the perfume’s delicate, fresh aesthetic.

Together, these items formed not just a perfume line, but an entire scented ritual—a way to experience Tendre Poison from morning through evening. The continuity of the bottle’s design, its verdant glow, and the graceful expansion of its range reflected Dior’s mastery of transforming scent into a lifestyle of beauty and refinement. The presentation of Tendre Poison thus mirrored its fragrance: graceful, luminous, and irresistibly feminine—a tender temptation captured in glass.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Around 2005–2006, Tendre Poison underwent a quiet reformulation and was introduced in a new bottle design that reflected Dior’s updated aesthetic for its classic perfume line. While the original 1994 flacon—designed by Véronique Monod—had embodied the soft, rounded apple shape of the Poison family, the reformulated version was presented in a sleeker, more streamlined bottle. This updated design retained the recognizable Poison silhouette but was refined to appear more modern and luminous. The transparent green glass remained, symbolizing the fragrance’s fresh floral-green character, though the hue was slightly paler, allowing more light to pass through. The gold detailing was softened, and the cap was redesigned in clear plastic with subtle pearlescent tones, giving the bottle a contemporary elegance while maintaining a visual connection to the original.

 

The reformulation itself reflected broader shifts within perfumery during the early 2000s. Changes in international fragrance regulations, the availability of raw materials, and evolving consumer tastes all played a part in altering the composition. Certain natural materials—particularly those containing allergenic components—were reduced or replaced with modern synthetic equivalents. The result was a cleaner, lighter version of Tendre Poison, preserving its recognizable floral-green heart but softening the rich base notes that once lent it warmth and sensuality. To some wearers, it felt more delicate and transparent; to others, it had lost the depth and texture that made the 1994 original so distinctive.

Unfortunately, despite its loyal following, Tendre Poison was eventually discontinued. Dior gradually phased it out in the years following the reformulation, likely due to shifts in market trends and the brand’s decision to focus on newer interpretations within the Poison family. Its discontinuation left a gap for admirers who had come to cherish its refined greenness and understated allure.

Today, Tendre Poison remains a beloved memory among perfume enthusiasts—a fragrance often described as the most graceful and restrained of the Poison line. Its combination of soft florals, tender greenery, and subtle warmth still resonates with collectors who seek out vintage bottles for their depth, complexity, and nostalgic beauty. Though no longer in production, Tendre Poison endures as a symbol of 1990s elegance—a “gentle poison” whose charm lingers long after its disappearance from Dior’s shelves.

BUYER BEWARE!

Beware of Fakes! Tendre Poison has been terribly faked. Here are some photos of a fake bottle and box that I had received in a large lot of Poison perfumes.   I have found that the fake Tendre Poison boxes are imprinted with the same batch code "6F01" while the bottles have batch code of "7A03".

The screenshot below is taken from my original Christian Dior Perfume Bottles Blog, now defunct.

Dior Homme Eau for Men (2014)

Dior Homme Eau for Men by Christian Dior: Launched in 2014. Created by Francois Demachy. 

 "Prominent and refined, magnetic attractive and charismatic, Dior Homme Eau for Men was created for the man who has 100 lives to live. His motto is the popular quote by James Dean: Dream like you’ll live forever. Live like you’ll die today. "

So what does it smell like? Very heavy on the coriander and iris.

• Top notes: Moroccan grapefruit, Calabrian bergamot, Crimean coriander
• Middle notes: Tuscan iris absolute
• Base notes: amber, Virginian cedar 

Housed in the standard Dior Homme flacon.

Available in the following:

• 50ml Eau de Toilette
• 100ml Eau de Toilette