The product: YSL Libre Eau de Parfum
I’m notoriously slow when it comes to producing reviews, which is perhaps why this one is so surprising. As soon as I got my hands on this new fragrance, I knew that I had to start working on a YSL Libre review. It isn’t the scent itself that inspired me to get tap-a-lackin’ at my keyboard, however: it was the beautiful bottle, and the beautiful marketing.
(I know; I’m a sucker!)
Let’s talk about (gender) freedom
A lot of fragrances talk about being androgynous, and I feel like this one semi-commits. (Yes, even though it’s still gendered by line to exist in the modern boutique).
[Wait! Before we move on, I just want to say: if you’re looking for androgynous fragrances, Serge Lutens has your back. One of the big reasons why they’re a brand that I adore is that they don’t bother with unnecessarily gendering their products. Their collections are simply their collections, and if you like them, you “can” wear them.]
Yves Saint Laurent introduced the tuxedo as androgynous-femme evening wear in the 60s, and doubled down on that aesthetic more recently during their Saint Laurent days under Hedi Slimane. The brand is known for its miniskirt: weaponized femininity that’s designed “not to tease, but to make you move forward freely.” YSL is positioned very well as a brand that empowers based on a performative agender, and it’s often also iconic to trans folx and enbys like myself.
There are critiques of the brand that I won’t delve too deeply into here, like idea that commercializing gender doesn’t serve the cause, or that provocative androgyny is perhaps nothing more than a marketing ploy. Personally, however, I disagree. I love the fundamentals of the YSL brand: I love it so much that I’ve even gotten behind Saint Laurent, and am somehow enthusiastic about that boring new typeface. I love their beautiful suiting, their indulgent use of patent and sequins; their beautiful Sac du Jour silhouette.
(I LOVE the Opyum heel design, even though I’d never be able to afford them.)
Why YSL Libre is the new femme in a suit
I’m not even going to bother with text here. My point can be made in the photo above, and with this one word: unf.
And if you’re not sure what I mean, I’ll give you one more: goddamn.
The YSL Libre perfume review that you actually want
You know I’d be down with this fragrance just for the bottle,but I mean, you hit a certain level of queer and it’s just like, oh, she’s in a suit? I guess I have to buy that thing/wear that shirt/watch that movie/ship that beautiful femme con artist couple. I’m obligated. This incident is no different, and while the perfume itself didn’t grip me, I’m still enjoying it.
YSL Libre is a mix of Moroccan orange blossom, French lavender, and a good dose of florals and musks. It’s very inoffensive: if you’re imagining any generic orange-floriental in your head, you can probably smell it already. I’m not a fan, but it’s very pleasant, and has a unique little twist with the orange blossom.
The YSL Libre review verdict?
Most mainstream fragrances smell largely the same to me nowadays, but I enjoy that this one is just a little bit lighter and cleaner that most florientals. It’s not as iconic as Opium, or as delicate as Parisienne (do you remember how everyone was wearing that for a good five years after it launched?), but it’s very pleasant.
I can see YSL Libre making a great transition fragrance—a way to ease your image from a Burberry Blush aesthetic to a Musc Ravageur one. It’s time.
Availability: $78 USD/$125 CAD. Permanent at YSL, Sephora, Nordstrom, and most major department stores.
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Disclaimer: This sample product was received compliments of YSL Beauty for editorial consideration only.
