The Story
Why it exists.
The beginning
Vladimir is one of seven. Part of the inaugural collection that launched in 2019, named, each of them, for someone who mattered. Carine Roitfeld has never been subtle about her references. The name isn't metaphor. It's a person. And the fragrance carries that specificity: it doesn't ask to be understood universally. It asks to be recognized by whoever understands it. Pascal Gaurin built the composition around that idea, a scent that behaves like a private language, until it isn't.
What makes Vladimir interesting isn't any single note, it's the structural argument between them. Iris is cool, powdery, almost pharmaceutical in its precision. Leather is warm, animal, worn. These two shouldn't coexist gracefully, yet here they do. The composition stacks them: iris arrives first, then leather softens its edges, then both surrender to a cedar-amber base that holds everything in place. It's a pyramid that works like a negotiation, each layer gives ground, keeps going.
The evolution
The opening is all citrus, grapefruit and bergamot arriving bright, clean, almost astringent. French sage threads through with a green herbal quality that keeps the citrus from feeling like a cleaning product. This phase lasts maybe thirty minutes before the iris announces itself, and everything changes. The iris here is Iris tingitana, powdery, slightly woody, with a violet-adjacent softness that warms the whole composition. Leather arrives quietly at first, tanned and brown, then builds. Cedar follows. The incense and frankincense don't overpower, they add smoke, a thin veil of it, just enough to add depth without drama. By hour three, the leather and amber are doing the work. Vladimir settles into skin like a second layer. On fabric, it lasts into the next day.
Cultural impact
Vladimir sits in an interesting corner of the niche market: it's neither aggressively masculine nor safely feminine. The iris-leather pairing reads as androgynous by default, powdery enough to intrigue, warm enough to comfort. Wearers describe it as the fragrance of someone who walks into a room and doesn't need to announce themselves. That positioning, quiet confidence, not performative, aligns with the brand's editorial identity. It's not trying to start conversations. It's hoping to be recognized by the right ones.





















