Il Mondo di Odore

B*Men by Thierry Mugler

2012-01-27T19:38:00.000-07:00

Anise, Licorice, Violet, Spices, Cedar, Patchouli, Vetiver, Leather, Vanilla, Musk.

This Mugler release has been around awhile now and it certainly seems to have its share of detractors. When B*Men first hit the malls, it didn't polarize like it does in the current market. Now, both Angel and B*Men seem to have lost their luster in the eyes of hobbyists. Not in all eyes however..........

B*Men is as good as its always been. Our preferences have changed over time. The "no apologies" aroma of this particular scent is in variance with today's sensibilities. It also doesn't help that for years, numerous people wore way too much of this and Angel.

I am in no way a Muglerite. I guess I am as neutral as one can be when it pertains to Thierry's creations. I hear, I try, I form an opinion and then post it. There's a subtle gourmand theme that runs through numerous Mugler releases. B*Men is no exception with it's burnt and carmelized agenda.

Perception is in the nose of the beholder. Rhubarb? Coffee? Singed Cocoa? I can't say yes to all of those, but who am I to say that someone else is smelling something that isn't there? To me, there's manifold spices blended together and then sauteed up in a simmering pool of Sambuca.

Tarragon and flower petals are added into the eclectic brew and topped off with a cup of French Vanilla cappuccino. Keep on simmer for 10 minutes and remove from heat only after the glaze shows signs of burning.

Naturally, the totality of what I perceive doesn't exactly jive with the listed accords you'll find from numerous sites. None of that matters. When I wear B*Men, this is what I get and I admit to liking it more than others seem to.

I have found that misting 2 to 3 sprays works great and I call it good. I can't say I find many occasions to wear it, but I prefer to lounge around the house, from time to time, reeking of something an irresponsible barista concocted. Sillage is good and longevity is 6 hours plus.

A positive-neutral rating from Aromi for Thierry Mugler's B*Men.

Genie de Bois by Keiko Mecheri

2012-01-27T07:36:00.000-07:00

I was unsure about trying Genie de Bois as it features the violet note and that one is precarious for me. There's something about the way violet is used that either makes me walk away from it or appreciate it.

I like the Mecheri line and since Keiko is intent on releasing very civilized renditions, I assumed that Genie de Bois would be in keeping with the house mentality. As expected, there's not a rude or caustic note to be found in the vicinity.

Genie de Bois is an uncomplicated floral woody. It leans on the feminine side, but not overtly so. I would have no qualms in wearing this and it feels suited for office, casual or even a frivolous night out. It wears light, but that doesn't mean there isn't substance here. There's substance all right.

Genie de Bois is one of those fragrances that is more

noticeable to others in your proximity than it is to the wearer. The cedar note is very evident and incrementally becomes more dominant as the wearings ensue. It eventually evolves into a woody with violet overtones. Once the opening accord dissipates after 15 minutes, the gender barrier dissolves and the shared aspect of Genie de Bois becomes apparent.

Now, do I like the violet rendition? I have to say yes. It's one of the better ones I've worn and for comparison, I'd say that it's on the other end of the spectrum from Grey Flannel. Keiko's version of the note is very supple and maintains presence in spite of this.

I believe that if I smelled this on someone at my place of employment, I would compliment them on it and ask what they were wearing. The houses of Mecheri and Micallef are my solutions when I have the urge to wear something that's in direct contrast to my classic fragrances. I enjoy having a softer touch now and then and Keiko may be the Queen of the brush stroke.

Once again, an appreciative thumbs up from Aromi for Her Softness, Keiko and Genie de Bois.

Terre de Sarment by Frapin

2012-01-26T16:48:00.000-07:00

Grapefruit, Neroli, Cumin, Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Orange blossom, Incense, Benzoin, Tobacco, Vanilla.

Even though the notes are listed and easily seen, the last thing I expected was an excellent grapefruit, incense and tobacco accord blasting to life on my skin when I applied Terre de Sarment.

I mistakenly thought the Incense and Tobacco would slowly integrate into the fragrance, but they are the framework from the very beginning. The others come to fruition at different transitions and that's what makes this have real depth.

I give kudos to the grapefruit rendition because it lasts much longer than a puff of smoke. It works oddly well with the Incense and the tabac note reminds me of pipe tobacco.

Within 20 minutes or so, you will find that name is totally appropriate. A beautiful, earthiness unravels and instead of taking the baton from the tobacco and Incense, it augments both. The tuning of notes is commendable and the ratios are seemingly perfect. They succeed in getting across to the wearer that this particular scent is about soil, tobacco fields, the life giving sun and subtle smoke that exudes from Mother Earth.

The spices in Terre de Sarment are nicely used. They never intrude more than accenting notes should and add dimension to the inherent earthiness. I was surprised that the Orange Blossom never evolved into a sweet rendition. The tartness of the grapefruit held it in check and together they account for a multifaceted citric accord worth smelling.

On me, the vanilla takes quite a long time incarnating. The extended drydown is when I get intermittent whiffs of it softening the earthy tobacco. It's a very comfortable stage in the evolution of Terre de Sarment.

In closing, this is a worthy fragrance that possesses nice sillage and excellent longevity. If you have a predilection for earthy tones in your arsenal, you should put this on your must try list. It's alluring and down to earth......literally. Big thumbs up from Aromi for Frapin's Terre de Sarment.

Frapin 1697

2012-01-23T20:15:00.000-07:00

Cabreuva, Davana, Jamaican Rum, Cistus, Pink Pepper, Jasmin, Sambac, Hawthorn, Ylang Ylang, Clove, Cinnamon, Dried Fruit, Rose, Ambergris, Tonka Bean, Myrrh, Patchouli, Cedar, White Musk and Vanilla.

Frapin releases some interesting and eclectic scents. Some are a bit challenging, yet they find a way to balance a little daring with convention. This house seems to have a penchant for implementing spicy elements in their creations.

I guess it's safe to say that 1697 is part daring and part business as usual. This approach is in keeping with the house. This particular fragrance is complex, but it doesn't wear like one. The volume and overall aroma is very nice, but the slew of notes makes it difficult for all to be heard and felt.

One of the promo lines for 1697 is that "this is the stuff angels stir with their wings when they fly over the vineyards where the liqueur of the gods is distilled".

I find nothing overtly boozy about 1697. The opening is unique in that it incorporates a floral-woody-balsamic with spice. The floral accord is like a canopy. It's a well blended, non descript affair that is, at once, delicate and substantial. I find it a very interesting effect. The more I smell it, the better I like it.

The clove is nicely executed. It has presence but isn't all encompassing . It seems to play well off the cinnamon and mild myrrh. Once the labdanum takes on a slightly resinous tone, the clove seems to amplify just a bit. Even with all the interplay of notes, 1697 finds a way to remain spicy and calm at the same time.

The amber is very noticeable in my wearings. Barely sweet and putting off a subtle resin quality, it's at the heart of 1697. While the pepper note lasts, they accentuate one another very nicely. As you can surmise, it doesn't last that long, but the ambery aura remains. My biggest surprise was the lack of presence from jasmin-rose.

In totality, 1697 is a spicy, herbaceous woody that has a floral halo resting over it. The clove is always there, but it along with the other spicy aspects are an asset. In extended drydown, it softens with the addition of oriental notes, but they are never really conspicuous.

Sillage is adequate and longevity is about 5 hours on me. I give 1697 a thumbs up but recommend a sample wear.

Sienna Musk by Sonoma Scent Studio

2012-01-21T13:52:00.000-07:00

Musk, Sandalwood, Nutmeg, Cardamom, Ginger, Clove, Mandarin, Cedar and Cypress.

One of my favorites from Sonoma Scent Studio. This is a musk dominant scent served up a tad different. I won't go as far as to say the rendition is arid, but ( on me ) projects a dustiness that I have come to thoroughly enjoy.

Sienna Musk falls in between sensual and just plain smelling good for the sake of smelling good. I don't claim to have a wardrobe full of terrific musk representatives, but enough of my collection have musk as part of the drydown. Some I like, some I'm ambivalent to, but what they all have in common is that none smell as good as this one.

It's true that Sienna Musk doesn't simply use the musk note in a base-accord setting. It opens as a spicy woody with that unconventional musk permeating the opening accord and beyond.

From the onset, you will become aware of how well this is blended. It's very rich, yet still has room to expand and breathe a little. The note volume is tuned to perfect pitch on me and that's something I'm always looking for in everything I wear.

Transitions? Not so much, but who needs them in a substantial scent such as this? Sienna Musk is good to go from the second the sprayer is depressed and you hear yourself involuntarily saying "Damn" !

The spicy wood doesn't take long to incorporate a balsamic nature. This aroma never leaves and merges with the everlasting musk. THIS......is Sienna Musk in a nutshell. The spices and cardamom are very agreeable and offset the wood and musk in grand fashion.

Sillage is terrific and longevity is off the charts on my skin. A big thanks to Laurie for taking the time in releasing a fantastic musk that flirts back. Thumbs up from Aromi.

Bois 1920 Come La Luna

2012-01-20T15:20:00.000-07:00

Sicilian Mandarin, Sicilian sweet Orange, Rose Wood, Pink Pepper, Coriander, Indonesian Patchouli, Cedar, Amber and Incense.

The very first thing I noticed about Come La Luna was the retro opening of citrus. This top could have been on any number of classic feminines. It's one of those accords that you can literally taste in your throat and it doesn't take much of this to get noticed. Over apply this one and you will be noticed on the lunar surface. I'm not badmouthing here, just giving a heads up that Come La Luna is no lightweight and if you have issues with sillage and longevity, pull the trigger on a sample of this. Your worries may be over.

I always enjoy citrus implementations and especially notes such as mandarin and tangerine. I cannot say that I like the rendition here in Come La Luna. It smells brash and synthetic to me. It's also tuned too loud for my taste, but others may have a different opinion of the opening.

The Pink Pepper is also a bit abrasive, so I guess it's safe to say that the intro isn't winning me over. After 15 minutes and the scent settles down some, I like it a bit better. The citrus now has shed the heaviness that bogged it down and the spice has eliminated the caustic aspect it possessed in the beginning. Come La Luna is still strong, but the combination of the notes dissipating and olfactory fatigue permit me to move along in the wearing.

The transition to the base accord reveals an earthiness compliments of the patchouli-amber duo. There's also a wood component arriving at about the same time, but it doesn't resemble rosewood to me. If anything, it's a shadowy cedar note and these new arrivals salvage the wearing. Up until now, it hasn't been that great a ride.

Extended drydown produces a more interactive, resinous amber. That along with the subtle incense is a nice touch. Other than that, I have to give Come La Luna a neutral rating. Sillage and longevity are very good, but I have to love what I'm smelling in order for those things to be an asset.

Grisens by Phaedon

2012-01-19T13:32:00.000-07:00

Pierre Guillaume is behind the Phaedon releases and he seems to be on a mission of sorts the past few years. Trust me when I tell you I'm not complaining because he puts out innovative fragrances. The ones I have sampled so far have been well made, but I wouldn't expect less.

Grisens is not one that falls into the innovative category, but it's one, excellent incense perfume. On me, it's dusty dry and isn't of the conventional, smoky variety. I can find only 2 listed notes that make up Grisens and they consist of Incense and Sandalwood.

Grisens is about a grey incense that, from what I've read, is indigenous to the island of Awaji. About a century and a half ago, this island became the hub for Japans incense needs. Apparently, the winds on the island of Awaji result in only seasonal work. This "disadvantage" resulted in the blossoming of what once was the cottage industry of incense. The winds are also reported to be advantageous in drying the incense, so it became a win-win situation for not only the island, but Japan as well. 'Funny how things work out sometimes.

In spite of only listing Incense and Sandalwood, I also detect an excellent, musky vibe going on underneath in addition to subtle spices. Grisens is slightly earthy, resiny and woody. It also reminds me of Incense that hasn't been lit.

Sillage is very nice and longevity is commensurate. Both of Pierre's recent endeavors ( Huitieme Art and Phaedon ) have left me feeling very good about the other releases under both banners. I will no doubt sample them very soon. An enthusiastic thumbs up from Aromi for Phaedon's Grisen.

Myrrhiad by Huitieme Art

2012-01-18T21:25:00.002-07:00

Myrrh, Black Tea, Licorice, Vanilla

The nose for Myrrhiad is Pierre Guillaume. I decided to buy a sample recently while perusing ThePerfumeShoppe. I believe all the releases from Huitieme Art Parfums hit the market in 2010 and his new creations under Phaedon have been released in 2011.

Pierre has been busy. He has an impressive resume and since I also like myrrh, I was compelled to give this a whirl. I've worn it twice now and it felt denser the first wearing, but Myrrhiad is still a substantial fragrance with some presence. The 2nd wearing gave me the impression it was a little more spatial than the first time and has room to breathe.

Naturally, this is all about myrrh and the few accompanying notes work well with one another. Myrrhiad embodies just enough sweetness to enhance its star player. The tea and licorice notes are readily apparent when you get close and then more diffusive at a distance. This is a full bodied aroma and extremely pleasant.

The implementation of this particular myrrh note is very lucid. There's nothing murky about Myrrhiad and smells as uncomplicated as it really is. I happen to like everything about licorice and any note that gives off a similar aroma. This happens to be a nice version and I love how it interacts with the Black Tea. I've been lucky lately in reviewing a few fragrances that had a really worthwhile tea note in the accords. I can add Myrrhiad to the list. These 3 notes smell like they were made for each other.

The opening continues for quite some time and since there are no transitions to speak of, all one can do is wait until the vanilla begins to creep into the fragrance. Eventually, it incrementally evolves and adds a nice, spicy oriental touch to Myrrhiad.

This is a nice fragrance. It's simple, direct and smells very good. The sillage is above average and longevity is commendable. This will last most of the workday on your skin and the same can be said for evening wear. Either gender can pull this off and gets a thumbs up from yours truly.

Les Nombres d'Or Vanille by Mona di Orio

2012-01-16T20:24:00.000-07:00

Brazilian orange, Indonesian cloves, Petitgrain, Rum extract, Bourbon vetiver, Ylang Ylang, Indian sandalwood, Gaiacwood, Vanilla absolute, Amber and Tonka bean.

Mona di Orio's Vanille is not just another vanilla fragrance. You might think that, by name alone, this could be a one trick pony or very linear. On the contrary, Vanille is complex and multi-faceted.

I enjoy the vanilla note as much as most people, but only in certain implementations. If it results in that waxy, vanilla candle aroma, I end up shunning that fragrance. I annoy myself due to the fact that this particular note, in certain variations, arouses such a sensitivity. Since I'm stuck with my olfactory, I move on and when I find one that works, I'll extol its virtues.

Enter Mona di Orio's Vanille. This is a spicy, woody vanilla and falls smack in the middle of the gender category. It would smell appropriate and extremely good on anyone.

Vanille has the ability to exude largess, yet the accords are tuned to evoke not only presence, but balance. The vanilla is out front, but never enough as to smother the accompanying notes. There's a terrific sense of balance here and showcases Mona's prowess as a nose.

The opening is a short lived citrus, followed by a rising vanilla paired with petitgrain and clove. Thi is a well done clove note and it works wonders with the gaiacwood.

I'm developing an affinity for gaiac as of late and find it a fabulous note. It's multi-dimensional and possesses an interesting aroma. The resiny aspect of Vanille is a well played card and trumps whatever booziness I was expecting.

Vanille dries down to a woody vanilla with resins and hints of spice. The sillage is deceivingly expansive and longevity is about 5 hours plus on me very easily. What can I say then except this is yet another bombastic creation from Mona di Orio and leaves me melancholy that she is gone. Big thumbs up from Aromi for the big, bad Vanille.

Comme des Garçons Series 2 Red: Sequoia

2012-01-15T13:46:00.000-07:00

As a lover of far too many woody scents, I am not only the the self-declared mayor of my perfume collection, known as Wardrobe City, but I am also the proprietor of the virtual village eyesore known as Red’s Lumberyard. Thus, CdG Series 2 Red: Sequoia, is one of those scents that I probably should have tried sooner. It is supposed to evoke, if not mimic, the scent of California redwoods, e.g., its namesake, Sequoia sempervirens. It seems to do this rather well.

To say those wonderful words, that make the friends of old-growth forests faint on the couch, "Let's git 'er in the mill, boys!"

Sorry! Just kidding! ;-)

Sequoia opens up with some momentary citrus, lifting what smells like a fairly unique redwood scent. It is something like an average of cedar and pine, but milder and more like a hardwood aroma. There is a brief flurry of dirty and animalic notes as the fragrance settles down, which it does very quickly. After this, it seems rather linear to me.

The redwood heart has a certain dryness to it, which is probably from a touch of incense, but it is layered with earthy, mossy and “wet” notes, which – overall - give it a very authentic, natural feel. The heart stays woody for a long time, taking the wood fully into the base, at which time soft musks replace wetness, and give a gentle and - you guessed it - woody drydown.

Longevity is good, but projection is only average. It wears close, and generates minimal sillage. Overall, it’s a nice skin scent.

Artistically, I feel that it accomplishes what it sets out to do, yet not in a clumsy or obvious way. It's the tree, proud in a quiet way - reflected in a quietly majestic scent. There is a certain complexity that reflects the fact that the tree is more than a simple wood - it's an ecosystem in itself. (*nature lover's sigh*) There's a reason that Bertrand Duchaufour is the nose behind every fragrance on the market. Scratch that - I just learned that he did not do Chanel no. 5 or Jicky. Sorry - my bad.

Don’t let the “natural” part deter you, o lovers of real, old-fashioned fragrance – this is perfectly wearable as a perfume, in some ways like Timbuktu (*snicker*). However, if you want to “go big” on the perfumey aspects, then this one is not for you. In fact, for a nice and similar woody scent that really steps out on the red carpet, I prefer Lubin’s Itasca, which has a big, “red”, woody smell, but which is also quite fragrant in a classically feminine way.

My final call is that Sequoia is a non-essential sniff unless you’re a wood enthusiast, in which case you need to sniff at least once. However, if you’re someone who loves “natural-smelling” fragrances, and are willing to compromise on the use of at least some synthetic aroma chemicals to accomplish this, then by all means give this a test drive. You may be pleasantly surprised that a designer like Comme des Garçons, with their own dedicated “synthetics” series, would create something this natural-smelling.

PS – My objectivity on this juice was severely tested by my admiration for Cherokee geek Sequoyah, who I consider one of America’s first code/language evangelists, and who is the grand-namesake of this fragrance. Do check out his story on Wikipedia. His foresight and persistence is very reminiscent of some of Silicon Valley’s finest geek heroes!

Villoresi Sandalo

2012-01-14T12:04:00.000-07:00

Funny how we can come full circle with certain fragrances. There was a time when I found Villoresi's Sandalo much too harsh and downright crude for my taste.

My palette has broadened over the years from simply staying active in the hobby. I still equate Villoresi as being the Frank Zappa of perfumery. No, I don't mean buffoonery, but rather an "in your face" and a take-it-or-leave-it approach. His creations always seem to be rugged, but that's one mans opinion.

Sandalo has a "not quite finished" air about it. Lorenzo has chosen not to cover the flaws in sandalwood and has it stand completely naked before the world.

Naturally, there are other players in the works in this fragrance, but the sandalwood is deliberately left to stand or fall on its own merits. If those of you considering sampling Sandalo necessarily don't harbor much love for sandal, rosewood or some lavender, then be advised that you will find this NOT to your liking. I love sandalwood, but for years, I only cared for creamy and assisted renditions of the note. Case in point is how niche houses continue to augment patchouli with amber and vanilla. It's become an industry recipe of sorts.

Villoresi's Sandalo opens with sandalwood , lavender and petitgrain as they ride upon a small wave of citrus. The citrus dissipates quickly to reveal facets of rosewood within minutes of application. The rosewood ( to me ) is more dominant than anything and jostles with the sandalwood for the entire ride.

I have another obscure sandalwood that is very similar to me once the opening is finished. It's called "Sandalo" as well and was released by ERBE Profumi. I have no info as to year or accords and I admit to researching it unsuccessfully.

There's numerous heavy hitters listed in Sandalo such as Labdanum, Vetiver, Neroli, Rose, Moss, Musk and Opoponax, but they pale in comparison to the sandal and rosewood. They remind me of guests invited to a party and then promptly ignored. In the extended drydown, some of them rear their heads, but they are cautious and quiet about it.

It's all good however. Villoresi Sandalo is one of the benchmark sandalwoods and years later I can say rightly so. Big thumbs up for Lorenzo's macho woody.

Passion Boisee by Frapin

2012-01-13T14:17:00.000-07:00

I guess I have come to expect incendiary fragrances from Frapin. It's true I've only sampled a few, but they don't have many releases to begin with.

I ordered a sample awhile ago after perusing the accords. A sucker for woodies, I'm always interested in one that I haven't tried and especially if it's from a house I hold in regard.

Passion Boisee opens with a slightly alcoholic and indistinct citrus. At the same time, there's a rubber aroma coming into play from the leather note. It's not an off putting latex smell, but I notice it and am glad when, after a few minutes, it morphs into a conventional leather note.

Tangerine? Well, I happen to love the smell of tangerine more than any other citrus. I enjoy the aroma of all citrus, but tangerine has that special something. The listed tangerine in Passion Boisee is ( to me ) a very generic rendition and difficult to even identify as such. There's a citric accord at work here for sure and I'm more comfortable naming it mysterine. With that said, it still smells okay. Just don't expect a palpable and juicy orange derivative.

The fragrance, as a whole, is surprisingly on the mild side. Spices of nutmeg and clove with rum had me expecting something else entirely. Their volume and contribution is much too passive for my taste. The same can be said for the moss and patchouli.

Passion Boisee has underwhelmed me considerably. Its totality is the opening blast of mildly alcoholic citrus with the latex. The leather transforms quickly, yet is pushed to the side by the oncoming cedar note. Within 10 minutes, the wearer is left with a pleasant cedar fragrance that is uninspiring and sadly lacking originality.

Passion Boisee smells nice, but I can only muster a half hearted neutral rating for this. Half a thumbs up from Aromi.

L'Ambre de Carthage by Isabey

2012-01-12T15:34:00.001-07:00

Cistus, Bergamot, Osmanthus, Jasmin Tea, Patchouli, Amber, Sandalwood, Olibanum and Musk.

L'Ambre de Carthage is an Eau de Parfum and exhibits a thick, swirling effect when applied. I'm unfamiliar with the house of Isabey, but L'Ambre is nice enough to warrant future samplings of other creations.

The labdanum is so front and center that it can be smelled before applying it. Once on skin, the labdanum and citrus spread out and create an inviting accord. Within a minute or so, the tea note and floral tones squeeze into the fray and the resiny spice that comes with it is very interesting. I love this part of the fragrance and only wish it could stay just like that.

The floral component in L'Ambre is exceptional. There's hints of sweet from jasmin and there's also balsamic undercurrents. The tea note seems to work rather well with this accord and I'm not exactly a fan of tea notes. When I find one I like, I give it praise like I'm doing now. L'Ambre is classified as a masculine, but guess what? Anyone could smell good wearing this.

After 20 minutes or so, the resin becomes a bit more obvious. There's intermittent hints of smoke, but nothing like that "ever-present sustain" that frankincense implements in other creations that you may have smelled. It's seemingly kept in the background here and it's an effective way to use it.

The woody aspect of L'Ambre is a bit on the anemic side, but the amber takes care of what the sandalwood has left undone. It's not a big deal as far I'm concerned since this is an amber fragrance after all. The patchouli is deep underneath all this action and lends just enough of an earthy element to keep L'Ambre from leaning too far on the sweet side. Just like in life, there's things unseen and unheard that make it all work.

Sillage is excellent as is the longevity. Fans of amber need to sample this one. Big thumbs up from Aromi for Isabey's L'Ambre de Carthage.

Lubin Idole Eau de Parfum

2012-01-10T21:02:00.000-07:00

Rum absolute, Saffron, Black cumin, Bitter orange peel, Doum palm, Rock rose, Smoked ebony, Frankincense, Sugarcane, Leather, Sandalwood and Amber.

Upon hearing of Lubin's planned release of an Eau de Parfum version of Idole, I was anxious to try it. I truly enjoy the EDT and also admire Olivia Giocabetti. I assumed I would like this rendition......and I was correct.

The first impressions of Idole EDP is balance and blending. This is very smooth and stays true to the original. Normally, I'll do a side by side comparison, but I felt that it was unnecessary in this case. This is Idole through and through, with some of the brightness removed from the opening accord. In that respect, it's similar to Guerlain's Heritage EDP in that it moves quickly to the heart and maintains a bit more density.

Do I like the EDP better? Actually, I like them the same. I also think it would be redundant to own both. If you have the EDT, I recommend that you be satisfied with it and forgo the EDP. If you have neither, sample both and then choose which one pleases you more.

The opening of Idole EDP is the boozy saffron accentuated by a deftly used orange. Both versions have this booziness, but it's not over the top. It hints at booziness more than anything else. These 3 notes are what makes the magic. The peel gives the perfect accent to the rummy saffron and the result is very satisfying.

The heart reveals a mild and smokey incense with a subtle contribution from wood. I keep smelling cedar in spite of the listed ebony and sandal. Regardless, its encroachment into the transition is seamless.

Once the base arrives, Idole becomes a bit leathery. This isn't a conventional leather nor is it a very obvious one. Like the EDT, it's perfectly suited for the scent itself. The drydown affords the wearer hints of resinous amber that lean toward the dry side.

The sillage is respectable and longevity is better than that on me. There's no doubt that the EDP version of Lubin Idole gets a thumbs up from Aromi. Kudos to Olivia for keeping this rendition extremely close to the original release.

Tokyo Milk, the Dark Collection, Part 2 of 2

2012-01-10T01:05:00.022-07:00

Femme Fatale Perfumes

In part 1 of this Tokyo Milk Dark series, I reviewed six of the original eight edps: Crushed (a very green jasmine); La Vie La Mort (a slightly spicy tuberose); Bittersweet (cacao bean-flour composition); Excess (an excellent labdanum amber patchouli); Arsenic (an “unexpected” absinthe, salt and fennel unisex fragrance); Everything & Nothing (an orange-potpourri-tea scent). I promised to return with reviews of Bulletproof and Tainted Love, which were backordered and never sent to me. I eventually had to re-order them from another vendor, and happily they have finally arrived.

Since my investigations into the Tokyo Milk Dark line began, however, Margot Elena, who may well suffer from hyperactivity attention deficit disorder—given that she simultaneously runs three separate perfume houses (Tokyo Dark, Lollia, and Love & Toast)—managed to launch a whole new series of Fate and Fortune “roller parfums de cigarro” to further augment the already impressive line-up of the Tokyo Milk Dark Collection.

Fate and Fortune parfums de cigarro

These new creations (not identified as eau de parfum or eau de toilette on the applicator itself or in the descriptions at vendors, but only as “perfume”) come in 10ml thin cylinders which are matte black with stylized white lettering, to perfectly match the sleek bottles of the Femme Fatale collection. The equally sleek Fate and Fortune rollerball applicators come housed in large cigar test tubes with cork-stopper bottoms which are certainly aesthetically appealing and interesting to look at, albeit not entirely functional or helpful, it seems to me. One of my test tubes arrived cracked, and I must say that they aren't that great for putting the perfume vessels on display, because they are so tall and likely therefore to fall down.

One might consider storing the rollerballs in the glass tubes on their sides, I suppose, but a problem with that idea is that unless they are slipped very gently and carefully into the outer tubes, they are likely to crash into the fragile concave glass top and break it. It would have been nice if the tips of the test tubes had contained some sort of cushion mechanism, I suppose, but instead, they really seem to me well suited only for donating to someone's chemistry set.

The rollerball applicators arrive rubber cemented to the cork base, which of course is designed to prevent breakage during shipping. But once they are a part of your collection, the test tubes seems somehow irrelevant. In any case, it was a creative touch, for better or for worse, and for which Margot Elena can always be counted on. Now to the perfumes, the final two members of the Femme Fatale collection, and five members of the Fate and Fortune Collection:

BULLETPROOF
Upon initial application, Bulletproof smells to my nose like a leather perfume, particularly if it is liberally applied. It is really quite remarkable, and must be attributable to the ebony and the black tea. I find the tea rendition here to be closest to China black—there are no chai spices, and I do not detect any coconut or coconut milk whatsoever.

I am reminded a bit of the opening of Hermès Hermessence Poivre Samarcande, which offers a very marked Assam tea note, according to my nose. Assam is not China black, but they are certainly closer to one another than either is to most other things in the universe. In any case, the two compositions diverge quite a lot in the drydown, because Poivre Samarcande manifests an incense note, while Bulletproof does not. Instead, the drydown of Bulletproof smells like a cross between a rich piece of resinous ebony and a pot of very black, stoutly brewed China tea. The seasoning is not sugar or cream, but cedar!

This creation is not at all sweet, clearly unisex, and would perhaps make a good pseudo-leather scent for vegetarians. On ne sait jamais. As for me, I find Bulletproof wearable but nothing that will need to be replaced once this 2oz bottle is empty. I think that a couple of better ebony wood compositions by Margot Elena are Tokyo Milk Dead Sexy and Love & Toast Pomme Poivre, both of which I encourage ebony enthusiasts to test.

Apparently Dead Sexy has garnered something of a following, but I like Pomme Poivre even more. I appear to be one of the few amateurs of that perfume on this planet, no doubt in part due to the radical disparity between the name and qualities of that composition. Zero apple, zero pepper. Why is it called Pomme Poivre or “Apple Pepper”? inquiring minds may well wish to know. I'm afraid you'll have to take that up with the elusive Ms. Elena, as I have no idea! You might also inquire, while you have her in your clutches, as to the meaning of “Love & Toast” or even “Tokyo Milk,” for that matter! But I digress...

Salient notes (from the bottle): smoked tea, coconut milk, crushed cedar, ebony woods

TAINTED LOVE
This perfume is a rare case of a Margot Elena combination of notes which has already been done so many times that it calls to mind literally dozens of middling mainstream oriental fragrances. It's the sandalwood and vanilla which doom this composition to redundancy. Sandalwood and vanilla probably smelled new and exciting at some point, but now, after a couple of decades of launch after launch after launch after launch, it all just seems tired and trite.

At first when I donned this perfume I was trying to rack my brain to figure out what Tainted Love was reminding me of. Then suddenly it dawned on me: virtually every average oriental mass market fragrance launched in recent history. Although the orchid might have come to the rescue, it is not strong enough to compete with the well-entrenched sandalwood and vanilla combination. White tea is very lightly scented, so no surprise that it did not save the day.

Needless to say, this perfume is not for me. But for those who seek out and wear sandalwood vanilla compositions, let me assure you that Tainted Love does not turn rank and stale, as many of the cheaply made cousins to this composition do. The price is also very reasonable, relative to some of the designer mainstream sandalwood vanilla perfumes. I would recommend Tainted Love for testing by those who enjoy wearing compositions along the lines of Christian Dior Addict.

Salient notes (from the bottle): dark vanilla bean, orchid, white tea, sandalwood

The names of the Fame and Fortune “roller parfums de cigarro” all have something of a gnostic ring to them: Truth, Yesterday, Chance, Tomorrow, Wisdom. I am sure that some cynical people will be criticizing this line for combining a couple of current fads, the cigar format (which I must say I myself have never understood), and the D&G Anthology-esque idea of numbers paired with Tarot card concepts. The creation process involved in the production of the Fame and Fortune perfumes is described in these terms:

Botanical extracts unearthed, crushed then distilled into this remarkably uncommon sensory experience.

We can generally count on Margot Elena for something “uncommon”, but how are these as perfumes?

TRUTH
This is basically a candied orange rind, gourmand perfume. Very sweet, and for gourmand lovers only. It is natural smelling, but it is not nearly so complex and compelling as, say, Hermès Elixir des Merveilles, which is my candied orange perfume of preference. I do like the scent of Truth, but it is too sweet for my taste in perfume. I'd almost rather eat it than wear it!

I should add that I was a bit disappointed with the longevity of this, my first perfume from the cigarro series. Bear in mind that the roller ball cylinders contain 10ml and go for nearly the same price as the 1oz and 2oz and 3.4oz bottles found in the Tokyo Milk, Tokyo Milk Dark Femme Fatale, and the Love & Toast line-ups. In fact, these Fame and Fortune “perfumes” cost about the same as the roller ball travel-sized formats of mainstream launches found at Sephora and major department stores such as Lord & Taylor or Saks ($24). Given the usually low cost of a 1oz or 2oz Tokyo Milk eau de parfum, I was half expecting these roller balls to contain higher concentration perfume. In fact, they wear more like eau de toilette on my skin. All of this suggests that we are paying a premium for the elaborate albeit cumbersome (see above...) packaging.

Salient notes (from label on test tube): blood orange, osmanthus, crushed cedar, and sugared vanilla

YESTERDAY
To my nose, this perfume primarily offers a somewhat odd combination of linden and old wood. It smells almost like wet, rotten wood for a few seconds, but then fortunately improves as it dries down. The linden is much stronger than the rose, and the whole composition becomes sweet, almost fruity as it dries down, making me suspect that there are perhaps some unnamed red or purple fruits lurking about. I am not smelling the ginger listed in the notes.

I would definitely characterize Yesterday as a fruity-floral perfume, in spite of the aged-wood opening and the marked linden note in the mid-stages. Eventually, the whole complex bottoms out in a reddish-purple fruity-floral scent. Not bad, but I can only recommend it to those who like fruity-floral perfumes.

Salient notes (from label on test tube): asuka rose, linden, ginger root, and aged wood

CHANCE
What I love about Chance is the opening brief blitz of bamboo and tea. Shortly thereafter, the fig marches up on stage and basically steals the karaoke mike for the rest of the night. Fig, woody fig, to be more precise, is without question the star of the show here. The musk is only a base, and the tea is relegated to the role of understudy by the drydown.

Fig perfumes are so popular now that I've managed to sniff about a dozen of them. Woody fig, fruity fig, green fig, dried fig, plus many permutations of the combination of those facets of fig in different proportions. I guess that, truth be told, I don't really like fig perfumes. This one smells as nice as they get, but I just am not wowed by them at all.

If you are an amateur of fig perfumes, you should try this one, because it smells natural and well-blended and certainly can hold its own against the stiff competition. But it is, in the end, yet another fig perfume in a very crowded corner of the grand olfactory map. At some point, I believe that the world of perfumery will awaken to the news that we have reached maximum fig saturation. Then we can look forward to new trends taking us far from land of figs and oud. Or perhaps we'll simply see fashion recycle, and the next New Big Thing will be the multilayered labyrinthine trajectory Old Lady floral aldehyde in all its perfumic glory!!!! On ne sait jamais...

Salient notes (from label on test tube): bamboo, tea leaves, fresh fig, white musk

TOMORROW
This unique composition, which combines marine and salt notes along with cypress and moss, strikes me as an olfactory neighbor of Arsenic, from the Femme Fatale collection. It's obviously the salt note which lies at the intersection of the two compositions, but the general feeling here, too, is completely unisex and very fresh. I am pleasantly surprised at how much I like this perfume because I've nearly never met a mainstream aquatic fragrance that I did not not like. (yes, that was a double negative!) These sorts of perfumes usually make me feel queasy and seasick (aptly enough), probably because the mainstream versions use some “smells like aquatic” synthetic component which simply conflicts with my physiology. As a result, I have grown very wary (and weary) of perfumes with the word water or blue in their name!

Tomorrow, which boasts “marine” notes, has demonstrated to me that I do not have a deep-seated aversion to the very idea of aquatic perfumes. It is just that some of them—and most of the mainstream versions I've tried—contain something which induces in me severe malaise. This “marine” perfume, in contrast, smells just like sea spray combined with driftwood and a greenishness which could be seaweed, though it's described by the house as cypress.

I would not want to wear this as a signature scent or as a part of my regular rotation, but now and then it could be a refreshing change from the typical citrus colognes which I reach for often in summertime. My suspicion is that lots of guys would like this one and certainly anyone who likes perfumes along the lines of Comptoir Sud Pacifique Aqua Motu, although I hasten to add that the marked musk is not present in Tomorrow. What I do not know is whether guys would appreciate the roller ball “purse friendly” format. Perhaps Margot (on peut tutoyer, n'est-ce pas?) will decide to release this creation in a regular bottle. I'm quite sure there would be takers!

Salient notes (from label on test tube): mineral salt, marine, cypress, white moss

WISDOM
This seems to me to be another fruity-floral composition, and I'm not sure what the mystery source of sweetness is. The good news is that the water lily note wears naturally, unlike the vast majority of mainstream perfumes claiming to feature that flower. I generally do not like water lily very much in perfume, but here it is likeable and does not smell artificial and chemically.

My understanding is that “Marge” eschews the use of all manner of nasty things included in the “sourced from a massive vat” mainstream perfumes more widely available. Wisdom appears to bear that truth out felicitously yet again on my skin. Yes, it smells vaguely watery and floral, but, no, it is not sickening at all. I am not at all sure that I detect any walnut whatsoever in this composition. Instead, I perceive something slightly sweet, like a water fruit of some sort. The musk is not at all sweaty here and barely detectable. Its sole role here seems to be to support the water lily.

All and all, Wisdom is a nice, simple, balanced composition. Nothing too exciting, but the roller parfum de cigarro might make a good small and inexpensive gift for someone who likes fruity-floral and somewhat aquatic floral fragrances. There are similar perfumes to this one in the Love & Toast collection, which come in fanciful 100ml bottles at a great price. So if you're looking for this sort of composition, you might give some of those a sniff as well.

Salient notes (from label on test tube): water lily, woods + moss, walnut, and winter musk

The Numbers Game

Although it's been quite some time now since I began my journey to the dark side of the Tokyo Milk line, I have unfortunately not made very much progress in deciphering the meaning of the numbers associated with these perfumes. So far, I have only deduced that 0 = Nothing = La Mort. Using the digits 10 for Everything & Nothing makes a lot of sense. And then of course there's my birthdate, 26, which hooks up quite nicely with Wisdom. Clearly I still have some distance to travel before arriving at anything I can claim to be 85 about these matters.

The good news is that I now have seven more data points to help me to deduce the solution to the numerological anagrammatic puzzle:

10 = Everything & Nothing

17 = Arsenic

18 = Chance

21 = Yesterday

26 = Wisdom

28 = Excess

32 = Crushed

45 = Bulletproof

62 = Tainted Love

68 = Tomorrow

83 = Bittersweet

85 = Truth

90 = La Vie La Mort

???

There is one more parfum de cigarro, which it was apparently my fate somehow to have missed, #79: Destiny, the notes of which are fresh cut ginger, honeysuckle, davana, and midnight jasmine. Hmm... sounds promising... Plus it's another data point!

I'll keep investigating on all fronts—but I'm not at all sure that I can keep up with Margot!!!!

Kinski Eau de Toilette by Kinski

2012-01-09T21:57:00.000-07:00

Cassis, Juniper berry, Peruvian pepper, Castoreum, Marijuana accord, Nutmeg, Plum, Orchid, Magnolia, Orange flower, Rose, Benzoin, Vetiver, Cedar, Patchouli, Styrax, Cistus, Ginger, Musk, Moss and Ambergris.

Kinski, like Nasomatto Afgano, has a marijuana accord as opposed to hashish. These modern, celebrated accords seem to perpetuate interest and prompt sample wears. It's a rather nifty promotional gimmick.

Now, before I review Kinski, allow me to say that no, this does not smell like reefer to me. Black Afgano was closer to its goal than Kinski is to its, but neither replicate very accurately IMO.

Kinski does smell different enough and project a nice aroma. The marijuana accord may be off the mark, but to make an issue out of THAT would be a bit trifling. The totality of the fragrance is what counts and it will stand or fall on that alone.

What I noticed about Kinski from the numerous wears is that it opens almost completely developed. There's no conventional transitions and it's extremely similar in this regard to The Gap Visionary. Its feel is closely related and both have aromatic markers in common.

Kinski is chock full of notes. These same notes, in a classic fragrance, would be implemented in a completely different fashion. I do not know if it's the modern equivalent of the notes using the same names, but there's a "pureed synthetic" tone to Kinski that seems to be common among many modern releases. I'm not insinuating "inferior" here, just different from older constructions and what I'm accustomed to wearing-smelling.

Normally, I like to review what I perceive as it unfolds, but as I said earlier, Kinski is mature from its inception. Only the volume changes and its longevity is commendable.

Kinski wears like a spiced up, herbaceous woody that also exhibits earthy tones. This could pass as shared, but leans more masculine. None of the listed heavy hitters unfold in a conventional manner. To those who eschew old school structure yet like the listed notes, this may just appeal to you.

I have to give Kinski a neutral rating because it reminds me of The Gap series that I own. I didn't fork over much money for that series and since Kinski is good, but fails to surpass them, it comes down to price point.

Figaro by Lubin

2012-01-07T15:32:00.001-07:00

Allow me to say that I truly thought Lubin's Figaro would be fig-dominant. That is my own fault as I simply pulled the trigger on the sample purchase without reading the accords. I have never been accused of being a genius when it comes to this hobby. I doubt that will ever happen in the future either.

Now, it does claim that fig is listed, but what I quickly glossed over was the fact that it reads "fig and apple"........and THAT......makes a world a difference. Maybe they should call this duo "fapple" since the apple exhibits more chutzpah than the fig.

LS has the notes listed as : Grapefruit, Bergamot, Pink peppercorns, Marine pine, Fig and Apple, Damson, Coriander leaves, Clover, Essence of vetiver, Styrax, Sandalwood and Tonka bean.

The opening of Figaro is rather good. It's a blast of citric freshness combined with peppercorn. It doesn't possess much of a bite, but lends just enough spice to enhance the accord. Within 5 minutes, this fragrance begins to lose me. So sad since the topnotes could have led into something substantial and interesting.

Once the heart accord is expected to begin, Figaro begins its downward spiral into mediocrity on my skin. It is here that it morphs into a generic representation of modern designer fragrances I encounter at the mall by the boatload. Is my snobbery rearing its pretentious head? No, not at all. Think of reformulated Nicole Miller for Men. When that masculine is as good as what I'm smelling here, there's something askew. In and of itself, Nicole Miller is fine. Figaro needs to set itself apart from economical, bargain bin releases simply due to its price point alone.

The base and drydown in each wearing afforded me a comfortable and extremely boring snoozefest. I'm usually not this harsh when doing reviews, but this scent has me very disappointed at $110 for 75ml. Suffice it to say that Figaro takes on a slightly floral tone as the wearings plod along, but never achieves any legitimate earthy wood auras. Even the tonka isn't a conventional implementation.........which is fitting in this case.

A big neutral rating from Aromi for Lubin's Figaro. A sample wearing is definitely recommended.

Acqua di Parma Colonia Essenza

2012-01-05T15:20:00.002-07:00

Released in 2010, the listed notes for Essenza are : Bergamot, Lemon, Orange, Mandarin, Grapefruit, Petitgrain, Neroli, Sage, Rosemary, Muguet, Rose, Patchouli, Vetiver, Musk and Amber.

Essenza opens on a terrific surge of citrus. All the listed culprits are accounted for and none are jostling for position. This isn't a cacophony and they all seem to be instantaneously blended. This is like the "Big Bang" of top accords that are citric in nature. It's extremely satisfying if you're an aficionado of openings such as this.

Within a few moments, the citrus begins to take on a slightly herbaceous quality

and non descript woodiness. This is indicative of other fragrances I've smelled from this house. I won't say it's redundant because it works well within the framework of Essenze and is well executed.

The floral notes remind me of a swimmer coming up to fill his lungs and barely breaking the surface of the water. The task gets accomplished with minimal fanfare and barely raises an eyebrow. Both florals and spice are seamless, acting on a team concept. At the expense of clarity, you receive a very comfortable accord that doesn't need or entice analyzing. It simply is what it is.

For an Eau de Cologne, this is quite impressive. Essenza possesses good throw and longevity. Forty five minutes ( or so ) into the wearings, earthier aspects creep into the base and drydown compliments of patchouli and vetiver. Their contributions are low key and amazingly, there is still remnants of herbal-citrus hanging on and clearly noticeable.

Amber also augments Essenza in its later stages. It adds a hint of sweetness sans any resin. I cannot say I realize any musk in my wearings, but it's all good.

Thumbs up from Aromi for Essenza by Acqua di Parma. Sample wear is recommended.

.

Diptyque's Virgilio

2012-01-01T21:22:00.001-07:00

Diptyque's Virgilio is a basil dominant scent. Well, at least on me it is and is reminiscent of Revillon's French Line. Virgilio isn't as "bright" as French Line in the opening accord, but they have numerous similarities.

Both share basil and thyme which are the dominant notes, yet they part ways categorically as far as listed notes go. As different as their listed notes are ( other than basil-thyme ), they still find a way to smell remarkably alike through the opening and heart accords. It's an interesting feat, but branch into different directions once the base and drydown transpire.

Virgilio opens with a blast of basil mingled with thyme. This basil-thyme combo leans slightly moist and is a good rendition of these two notes. You must like herbal accords or else this fragrance is likely to disappoint. As for me, I like most herbal fragrances that I've encountered and haven't come across many that are as good as Puig's Sybaris or French Line with it's herbal-leathery twists and turns. Where French Line opts for leather in its base, Virgilio becomes woody. Virgilio also is tuned at a moderate volume after the opening subsides and permits some woody-earthy tones to arrive.

There's cedar and vetiver listed in the base accord, yet they don't materialize as a distinct cedar-vetiver tandem. Even in the extended drydown, I can distinguish woody and slightly earthy. They don't possess the clarity of what's easily recognized as cedar or vetiver. Regardless of the notes being blurred, the accord still smells good and that's all that matters. I can also smell a subtle basil along with the earthy-wood long into the life of the wearings.

Virgilio is a nice, herbal woody that doesn't alienate with volume. It's also fairly linear with moderate projection and sillage. The longevity is about 4 hours on me and I find that reasonable. Even though I don't "love" Virgilio and prefer French Line for my basil fix, it's still a good scent that leans masculine but can be worn by both genders. Thumbs up from Aromi for Diptyque's Virgilio.

Happy New Year from Il Mondo di Odore

2011-12-30T17:44:00.000-07:00

The very best wishes from all of us at Il Mondo !!!

Here's hoping nothing but good things come to pass
for all our readers in 2012.

Amouage Reflection Man

2011-12-30T16:33:00.002-07:00

I wanted to review Amouage's Reflection Man dead last for the year of 2011. It seemed only fitting since it is a time to look back upon a year that has passed us by so quickly. There's plenty to reflect on for all of us. I'm just not completely convinced a fragrance can accomplish a task as sobering as that. It may help the mood along however, so let's see if Amouage has succeeded in nudging me along this road.......or if, in the process, I turn into a pillar of salt.

I sampled Reflection Man on and off for the past month or so. There was just "something" sticking in my craw about it that I still cannot put my finger on. What I did conclude is that there are periods in the wearings that I am reminded ( strongly ) of Pascal Morabito's Avec Amour. Pascal's "With Love" has floral components with similarities not only in aroma, but texture as well.

Reflection Man leans slightly rouge on me. Missing is the customary incense note that Amouage has made a living from. The combination of notes implemented in this won't have everyone falling over their wallets to make a purchase. It's a bit floral dominant with a bitter edge and exudes a thick feel. I wouldn't be surprised if it polarized as much as Insense by Givenchy or Caron's 3rd Man. I mention those two ( off the top of my head ) because masculine florals aren't known to be best sellers.

The listed notes are as follows : Red pepper berries, Rosemary, Bitter orange leaves, Orris, Jasmin, Neroli, Cedarwood, Sandalwood, Patchouli and Vetiver.

The opening of Reflection Man is, in essence, the top, heart and ( at least ) part of the base accord. Whatever Red pepper berries ACTUALLY are, I do not know. What I do know is that I this note HAS TO BE what is giving me the reddish impression. I reacted the same way to Avec Amour, but no matter. The effect is a red fruit vibe with an attached bitterness from the orange. I cannot state I experience pepper, but whatever "bite" in inherent in this is attributable to the orange leaves. The floral heart of Reflection Man is Jasmin, front and center, with some Neroli and even less Orris. There is a powdery aspect as the life of the scent continues, but I don't get as much as some reviewers have attested to. I can't seem to get past the Red pepper berries since ( on me ) it permeates the entire composition. This is not a bad thing mind you, simply a statement of how this fragrance reacts on my skin.

The woody and earthier notes of the base seem slow to arrive and are tuned at a low volume. If you are a fan of the listed wood, patch and vetiver, what will disappoint is that they act as a skin scent combination rather than taking the proverbial baton. This too isn't necessarily a negative. I prefer more dominant implementations of accords such as this as these notes are favorites. They are evident but they simply speak very softly and there's no carrying stick in sight.

Sillage is respectable and so is the longevity. If there are any "reflective" qualities to Reflection Man, they may be tied into what a person experiences on any given day. A little sweet mingled with some bitter and a little powder to comfort the soul. Wood and earth are present as well and these elements, while not exactly conducive to soul searching moments, are indicative of what we all experience everyday by way of olfactory. Reflection is a bit of a stretch, but it smells good and THAT can't be bad for someone's state of mind.

A 3/4 thumbs up from Aromi with the recommendation that you really should try-b-4-u-buy on this one.

Parfums De Nicolai New York

2011-12-29T16:29:00.000-07:00

This particular masculine has been around for a little over 20 years. Naturally, there's wheelbarrows full of reviews on it. I figure to throw my opinion into the ring as well.

It's about time I finally added a review for this classic. Make no mistake, it is a classic. New York is along the lines of Pour Monsieur, Egoiste and Heritage. It has its own identity and aroma, but the construction is similar to those I've just mentioned.

The name "New York" can only be appropriate if describing the sophisticated simplicity that's inherent in this fragrance. From beginning to end, there's no surprises except the fact that you smell like a refined gentleman.

The citric opening of De Nicolai's New York is a Bergamot-Lemon with just enough clove woven into the fabric. The citrus accord hangs around for a very respectable amount of time and possesses a denseness not normally found in openings with these notes.

There's other spices in New York other than clove, but ( to me ) are blended as a medley without ripples. The clove just so happens to peek out a bit more than the rest. Clove isn't the easiest implementation to pull off in any scent, but De Nicolai nails it. The spicy aspect of the heart is extremely complimentary and the use of cinnamon, thyme and pepper to augment the clove is well done. The top and mid accords unfold in a seamless fashion before surrendering to the drydown.

The amber is the first to arrive on my skin as New York transitions to the base. It's not a sweet rendition by any means and imparts a slight, resinous quality. The oakmoss is also apparent and is a light version of the note. I believe that, because of the way the oakmoss is used here, it keeps New York timeless. A heavier use of the note would ( more than likely ) have burdened this with a pronounced retro feel and smell. The vetiver is also implemented in a similar fashion. It's there to augment and nothing else. The attenuation of all the notes is commendable and the result is this 20 something masculine still garnishing praise today.

Sillage is very acceptable and so is the longevity. It really would behoove fans of this genre to try this. Enthusiastic thumbs up from Aromi for Parfums De Nicolai's New York.

Karl Lagerfeld Kapsules

2011-12-28T23:16:00.003-07:00

Apparently über-kühl German designer Karl Lagerfeld loves geometry and music, in addition to fashion, and his launch of the Kapsule trio—a set of three unisex perfumes designed to be worn separately or mixed together according to the wearer's liking—is a multidimensional tribute to all of Karl's loves simultaneously.

Since these perfumes are sold separately, they can and should, it seems to me, be initially evaluated as stand-alone fragrances. How do they measure up next to similar perfumes in their respective categories?

KAPSULE LIGHT (2008)
Subtle or boring? Well, it's all a matter of personal values, I suppose. To my nose, Kapsule Light is without question a subtle, slightly masculine-leaning cologne. The dominant cedarish quality is, I gather, imparted by iso-E-super? Karl's not the kind to show all his cards, so there probably is a lot more going on than the officially listed notes suggest.

In any case, the principal spicey notes in this composition are characteristically strong ones: bitter orange, clove, and nutmeg. The latter two of those notes usually signal big, bad oriental. Here, however, they are very lightly applied, with the overall effect of being to my nose at the very threshold of perceptibility. The scent ends up seeming much closer to Molecule 01 than to typical nutmeg, clove, and bitter orange-laden perfumes. Yes, Kapsule Light, as advertised, is light.

This would make a fine scent for the modern wall-less open office, where loud colognes can really be too much for all parties concerned—including the wearer, given the potential for undue strife and contention caused by overly sensitive co-workers. I am fairly sure that Kapsule Light would mix well with more intense perfumes, to mellow them out a bit, though I do not mean to suggest that this is somehow solvent-like. In addition to testing some of the Kapsule combinations, I am going to try mixing this one, in particular, with some of the harder-hitting offerings from the house of Comme des Garçons.

The color of the Kapsule Light bottle is, appropriately enough, a lighter version of the tealish-smoky blue of the Kapsule Woody bottle, suggesting that a stroll in that direction might be in order...

Perfumer: Mark Buxton
Bottle designer: Luz Herrmann
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): bitter orange, jasmine, nutmeg, cloves and musk

KAPSULE WOODY (2008)
The plum and the wood of Kapsule Woody mingle together enticingly with the moss, though I should say that it does not really seem like oakmoss to me, nor is evernia prunastri listed among the ingredients.

By far my favorite of the Kapsule trio, Kapsule Woody is fully unisex to my nose. I do find this one a bit different from the usual woody colognes out there, primarily because of the plum. Somehow I'm getting a bit of an emergent incense vibe out of the deceptively simple line-up of notes. Again, I don't think this is a three-note wonder, but it is fairly streamlined and smooth.

The gorgeous Kapsule Woody bottle is a deep tealish blue, which is dark enough to convey more of a midnight in a forest (woody, oriental, chypre) than a sunny day at the beach (aquatic) impression. Splendid!!!!

Perfumer: Oliver Cresp (Firmenich)
Bottle designer: Luz Herrmann
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): cedar, moss, gourmet plum.

KAPSULE FLORIENTAL (2008)
Although this perfume comes in a black-tinged red bottle, the composition has a rather creamy yellow feeling to me, falling somewhere in between Kapsule Woody and Henri Bendel Vanilla Flower. Surely there's more to this perfume than violet, tea, and ivy? I'd add wood, possibly tobacco leaf, and vanilla, for starters. There is definitely a lightly mimosa-esque feel to the overall composition, although it is not overly floral. However, Kapsule Floriental does seem to me more feminine than the other two members of the trio.

Kapsule Floriental is a gentle, not-too-sweet, not-too-spicy, not-too-flowery, oriental perfume, with a softness vaguely reminiscent of Jill Sander Style Pastel Soft Yellow—but perhaps without the benzoin and with a touch more wood?

Although this perfume is not all that original, it has a soothing and warm quality which makes it suitable for cooler weather. It will be interesting to see how this mixes with the other two Kapsules.

Perfumer: Emilie Coppermann (Symrise)
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): ivy leaves, violet and black tea leaves.
Bottle designer: Luz Herrmann

Synoptic Aesthetic Assessment
I read one amusing review in which these perfumes were described as “three flankers in search of an original,” with which I must respectfully disagree—although I certainly do appreciate the wittiness of that turn of phrase! To call a perfume “flanker-esque” these days is certainly not to pay it a compliment, so the reviewer's point was of course that, as stand-alone perfumes, none of the Kapsules is all that memorable or iconic.

In my view, it is indeed true that the individual perfumes of this collection are not earth-shatteringly brilliant. Nonetheless, I feel that overall, when all facets and factors are taken into consideration, the Kapsule collection succeeds. In order to understand how I can claim, on the one hand, that the perfumes are not individually extraordinary but, on the other hand, the collection succeeds as an aesthetic project, it is important to bear in mind what this was all about in the first place.

Karl wanted to create a modular “chord-like” trio of perfumes. In order to mix compatibly with one another, according to unique wearers' own idiosyncratic preferences, each individual perfume had to be, of necessity, relatively simple, and the names needed to reflect that simplicity as well: Light, Woody, Floriental. Yes, compared to the names given to perfumes today, these all sound pretty boring. But imagine, for example, mixing together two or three classic perfumes with wild development trajectories filled with dozens of notes unfurling in various and unpredictable ways in the approach to the drydown. The effect of such a combination could quickly become unwearable, if not downright emetic.

The Kapsule trio not only invites perfumistas to be creative in applying their fragrance, it also inspires thought about the process of creating a perfume, how it is that perfumers arrive at the products which they launch as finished perfumes. Here is a list of some of the combinations which wearers might hit upon by mixing equal numbers of spritzes of the three Kapsules with one another:

001

010

100

011

110

111

When one considers the many other possible permutations, where multiple spritzes are combined with single spritzes—or even half-spritzes—then the numbers quickly leap exponentially. I did not, needless to say, try all or even many of these combinations, but I did experiment a bit with simple 1:1 mixtures, and what I found was that they actually did make wearable perfumes with varying degrees of complexity.

The Kapsules succeed aesthetically, therefore, precisely because of their individual simplicity, which is an integral part of the grand scheme underlying the overall production. A derogatory dismissal of the Kapsules as “three flankers in search of an original” fails to grasp (or appreciate) the governing concept of the project, and the designer's unique vision in coming up with the musical-mathematical-perfumic idea in the first place.

In the end, I regard the Kapsule trio as a fascinating concept, with splendid aesthetic execution on all fronts, including the visual presentation. Why even the silver-and-white-accented, textured-black cardboard boxes are beautiful to behold! Karl's signature is stamped—using raised lettering, as in Braille—on the bottom of the bottles (see the picture of Kapsule Woody, above), yet another aesthetic flourish.

The three bottles look very sleek lined up together, forming a three-layered box, and even sound nice when clinked. The sleek, brushed-aluminum cap and matching circular name plates provide the perfect finish to the appealingly colored square-shaped bottles. I really do love the geometry and aesthetics of the whole presentation—and I suspect that even some perfume haters would as well. If they perchance received this collection as a gift and have some appreciation for visual aesthetics, they might even consider, rather than throwing the bottles away, displaying the collection proudly among other objets d'art on a bureau or book shelf. Yes, believe it or not, every angle and node in logical space is covered by the Kapsules! The perfume hater would be the one who chooses combination 000.

Touching and seeing the bottles in which perfume is housed is no less of a sensory experience than is smelling what's inside. Kudos to Karl & Co. for not neglecting the all-important details all-too-often overlooked.

Nobile 1942 PonteVecchio

2011-12-27T21:34:00.001-07:00

This particular release is described as an Eau de Parfum ( Colonia Maxima. ) The very first thing I noticed upon applying PonteVecchio was that it indeed smells like a cologne the initial 5 minutes or so.

To be honest, I'm not a fan of colognes. It's simply a preference and nothing more. Once I noticed this was a "Colonia Maxima" on the LS site, I decided to purchase a sample out of curiosity. After wearing this, I'm not sure this is a maximized anything. The sillage is very close to the skin, but I will say that PonteVecchio does transcend the "cologne" vibe beyond the top accord more than a conventional cologne would.

Do I like it? I'm stuck between liking it somewhat and "meh". I find nothing striking or special about it. It smells pleasant enough, but for a full bottle purchase, we all need to love something about what we are smelling. After all, we are the ones stuck wearing it for hours. If you are anything like me, I wear scent for myself and if others like it as well, then that's icing on the cake.

LS has the notes listed as : Bergamot, Mandarin and Frankincense, Grapefruit, Geranium, Orris root, Rosewood and Ylang Ylang, Patchouli, Sandalwood and Vetiver.

PonteVecchio opens with a nice citric accord that has a subtle implementation of incense. To me, the bergamot, mandarin and grapefruit are blurred, but smell good regardless. It doesn't take long for the Ylang to smooth out any wrinkles. The woodiness is buried underneath and I have to really get down on my skin to notice it. If I bury my nose on skin, I can distinguish them and wish they were amplified.

A slight soapiness accompanies the heart and stays for the duration of the wearings. I cannot detect patchouli in PonteVecchio and it may possibly be trumped by the other players. The vetiver becomes more apparent once the first two transitions are completed. What's left for the base and drydown is a slightly soapy incense with some earthiness thrown in.

The longevity of PonteVecchio is average and possesses low throw. I find it a mediocre fragrance that leans masculine, but you may like it better than I. Neutral rating from Aromi for Nobile 1942's PonteVecchio.

R'oud Elements by Kerosene

2011-12-25T23:10:00.002-07:00

It's not every day that niche lover Joe Petruccijc and mainstream maniac Redneck Perfumisto speak highly of the same scent - much less buy bottles of it.

If that's not reason enough to pay attention to this scent, then let me begin by drawing comparisons to Tom Ford and the oudier Bond no. 9 scents. And your good buddy R.P. will make a further admission, folks. Of the multitude of frags that magically appeared under Red's Christmas tree this year, Kerosene's R'oud Elements is the one that he opened up and wore on Christmas day.

There are already some nice reviews of this fragrance on Basenotes, the + Q Perfume Blog, and Memory of Scent. There is even an interview with the creator, Kerosene, on the + Q Perfume Blog link. But let me give you the quickie tour of the history and smell of this scent, so you can decide for yourself whether to investigate further.

Kerosene is a core member of the YouTube men's fragrance gang - but he has always been an active Basenoter as well. Nobody ever figured that Kerosene was actually thinking about making some frags. When he suddenly mentioned that he had something - an oud scent called R'oud Elements - people took interest. But my ears really perked up when I heard the words "orange bitters". I immediately sprang for a sample on PayPal. Dark citrus and me go way back. There is no way I'm gonna pass up the possibility for some strong, deep, bitter orange - one of my favorite notes in perfumery.

Well, my sample came, and it only took one sniff to know that I needed a bottle of this stuff. My first wear was a keeper. And let me assure you that the bottle contains the same exact juice that wowed me from a sample atomizer.

I maintain that R'oud Elements could pass for a mythical scent, Tom Ford Orange Oud. If you can imagine that scent, then you're already close to knowing what this one smells like. This is a dark, woody, spicy oud scent with just enough oud to be interesting, but not enough to set off any warning bells for oud haters. Kerosene even calls it an oud scent for people who don't like oud. The oud is less prominent than in things like Bond no. 9 New York Oud and New York Amber. It's more like Creed's Royal Oud, or the Harrod's Swarovski Limited Edition from Bond no. 9. It's a very well-behaved oud. Kerosene admits that it's a mixture of natural and synthetic ouds, but also that he worked very hard on making it all balance. And I can tell you - it shows.

The orange note in R'oud Elements is beautiful, long-lasting, and never too strong. It hangs in for the duration, which is something I look for. Beyond the oud and the orange, woods are where it's at. Kerosene says he used a bunch of them, and you can tell - the woodiness is complex and even a bit nondescript, but still, I must say, very desirable. You can pick up the spices, but they're more subdued than in Royal Oud. The smokiness is something I do love about this scent. I get amber out in the open every once in a while, and maybe the vanilla, but they've been done in a very balanced way, so they're never dominating.

Taken all together, it's a very smooth experience. Just a bit smoky, just a bit sweet - I would liken the overall experience to orange-glazed barbecue over a real fire - except that it's never that crude. It's like a barbecue-based dish on the goofy-big plate at some top-of-the-tower restaurant. You know what I'm saying? Again, I draw comparisons to Tom Ford.

Who - incidentally - has a fragrance line which is loved by one Joe Petruccijc and one Redneck Perfumisto.

The price point on R'oud Elements is superb - I think Kerosene was smart to offer a good deal that competes with some very pricey stuff like the Creed and the Bonds. We're talking $75 for 50 mL, U.S. shipped ($80 international). Anybody who balked at the prices on those earlier fragrances, but found them decent, needs to try this scent. Period.

K-Man did a great job on the bottle, too. They're hand-painted and labeled, with a damn nice finish that looks very sharp. The black metallic flake paint job is totally consistent with the fragrance, in my opinion. For a niche act, it's just refreshing as hell to see how hard Kerosene sweated the details.

A quality product at a good price, once again made in the U.S.A. Michigan, even.

Nice.

Best Wishes to all during Christmas

2011-12-24T16:58:00.000-07:00

Here's wishing everyone a very, merry Christmas and that the desires of your hearts come to pass. May all enjoy the blessings of being with family and friends. Peace from us at Il Mondo di Odore.

Juliette Has a Gun Citizen Queen

2011-12-24T09:46:00.001-07:00

I enjoy stumbling upon houses that manage to release some consistent fragrances. This particular house has a certain style and feel to its creations and I admit to liking their constructions.

Citizen Queen ( on my skin ) is about leathery rose and iris. This is the opening and it's substantial. There's also a labdanum in the mix, but it seems content to let the aforementioned trio have the spotlight and assist from the shadows.

Immortelle is also listed and I was expecting it to become dominant at some point. That note does have a habit of usurping compositions, but not in Citizen Queen. Instead, it seems to soften the complexion of the scent and truly is well executed.

After 10 minutes, the iris starts to become passively powdery. It stays that way for the duration of the wearings and the totality of Citizen Queen is the leathery rose with contributions from iris and subtle amber. I find that Citizen Queen and Cuir Ottoman are DISTANTLY related and if I had to choose what I like better, it would be Citizen Queen. I have and wear Cuir Ottoman, but not often do I find myself reaching for it. I believe I'd grab this one more frequently.

Sillage is very good and longevity is 6 plus hours. Yet another thumbs up from Aromi for Juliette Has a Gun's Citizen Queen.

Bond No.9 Hamptons

2011-12-23T15:44:00.000-07:00

Before sampling Bond No.9 Hamptons, I read some of the reviews instead of reviewing, then reading other opinions. I guess it's the approaching Holidays, stress and whatnot that has me doing everything ass backwards lately. I'll be fine after some valium and a Bud Lite.

Now, I have been having a difficult time the last week or so reviewing ANYTHING. Nothing seems to have "clarity" to my nose and it's not because I have a cold. Physically, I am fine, so I attribute this distracted and detached state to the time of year.

The very first thing I noticed upon applying Hamptons was that it has a peripheral latex note. It's that rubber glove aroma floating above everything else. I know that smell well. I was a Chef for years and while no longer willing to manage kitchens, I still work in one. Gloves are as visible in kitchens as the food and utensils themselves. After peeling off a set of disposable latex gloves, there's a certain smell that accompanies that act. It's in Hamptons as well.

Naturally, I attribute this effect to the combination of floral and green notes along with musk. I admit to not enjoying this attenuation of components. I have smelled similar groupings of notes in other fragrances before mimicking this latex note. I can't say I enjoyed it in them either.

Bond No.9 has the notes listed as : Lime blossom, Bergamot, White jasmin, Magnolia, Amber and Sandalwood.

Hamptons seems to sit in the middle of masculine and feminine scents. Anyone who likes this can pull it off in my opinion. My problems with it seem to be the aforementioned latex and Hamptons inability to unfold the listed woody-amber notes. Even after an hour ( and longer ), the greenish floral combo still persists and doesn't seem to transcend that. It's rather unremarkable on my skin, but quite possibly would be perceived differently by others. I am disappointed with it, but I still recommend a sample wear if other reviews of it pique your interest.

The sillage is adequate and so is the longevity. Now, if I could only enjoy both.........but..........it's simply not to be. Neutral rating from Aromi for Bond No.9's Hamptons.

Le Labo: Limited Edition Anthropologie Launches

2011-12-19T21:18:00.007-07:00

Le Labo recently launched a series of new limited edition perfumes (edps) in collaboration with Anthropologie, an eclectic purveyor of women's clothing and curiosities, including a smattering of niche perfumes. Having been very impressed with the small number of Le Labo perfumes I had already tried, I decided to check out three members of this special series (there are five all together), which for some unknown reason are priced drastically lower than the regular Le Labo perfumes, commanding a mere $62 for each 2oz bottle!

Interestingly enough, upon receipt of my package, I discovered that the label on the front of these bottles reads, “From the Makers of Le Labo,” thus vaguely suggesting that it is not really Le Labo perfume. Still, the bottles are made of hefty brown pharmaceutical glass with thick bottoms, and the caps are painted heavy metal (not chintzy plastic), so the overall feeling is substantial and inspires confidence in the quality of the product.

Unfortunately, the paper tab taped to the bottom of the bottles indicates that the perfumes are produced by Interparfums, and I must confess that I cringed slightly upon sighting the dreaded letters BHT among the ingredients listed there.... Still, I could not believe that Le Labo would permit their illustrious name to be used to peddle inferior goods. Happily, the confirmation of my belief was only a few spritzes away:

POUDRE D'ORIENT (2010)
Upon initial application, I was somewhat taken aback by Poudre d'Orient, which must have dashed my expectations—though I must say that it's entirely unclear why I should have had any in the first place... In any case, my first reaction was that this composition was similar in some ways to Prada Infusion d'Iris—which also surprised me a lot the first time I wore it. Certainly I was not expecting the linearity, nor the woody powder quality. In the case of Poudre d'Orient, I felt as though I was perceiving a dominant super-finely powdered cedar supporting the composition. Yet cedar is not listed among the notes. According to Anthropologie, Poudre d'Orient comprises “exotic aromas of violet leaves, patchouli, vanilla, and suede musk.”

Whatever accounts for the fine powdery quality of Poudre d'Orient, I have to say that I am becoming addicted to it. Now that I know what's in the bottle, I find myself reaching for it more and more... The violet and vanilla mingle with the pseudo/quasi-cedar ("suede musk"?) powder to produce a very pleasing texture which is not very sweet and does not actually smell like vanilla (always good news for those who dislike vanilla frags...). The patchouli, too, is very low key—if detectable at all. Of course, that's a relative judgment informed no doubt by the preponderance of über-patchouli perfumes on the market today, many of which simultaneously offer super-saturated vanilla solutions. This creation is nothing like those, you may rest assured.

I really like Poudre d'Orient and recommend it to those who appreciate gently woody violet perfumes. This is similar in some ways to Creed Love in Black—well, except that the Le Labo is much better... I would categorize Poudre d'Orient as a feminine-leaning unisex perfume. Probably too feminine for many men, but a select few might take to it...

Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): violet leaf, patchouli, vanilla and suede musk

BOUQUET BLANC (2010)
According to the Anthropologie website, Bouquet Blanc is a “decadent floral composition of cassis, bergamot, jasmine, tuberose, and vetiver.” As clearly and accurately advertised by its name, Bouquet Blanc is primarily a white flower composition. The jasmine and tuberose are equal partners in this bouquet, and while the cassis may contribute to smooth out the blend slightly, it is definitely not detectable as cassis to my nose.

Bouquet Blanc smells beautiful to me: not too sweet, not too sharp, not too dry. Just right! The composition is certainly nothing new, but it is a nice white flower perfume. This one is simple, not cluttered, and bright white, rather than gray and indolic. Like many big white flower perfumes, this one has good longevity and fairly big sillage.

Anyone who has an issue with either jasmine or tuberose would definitely not like this creation, but white flower lovers should consider giving this limited edition perfume a try—if they can get their hands on a tester, which unfortunately is easier said than done. Of course, those who for reasons which remain inscrutable to me believe that "women have no business smelling like flowers" need not and should not apply! This perfume is unabashedly feminine.

Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): cassis, bergamot, jasmine, tuberose and vetiver.

BELLE DU SOIR (2010)
I am truly baffled by Belle du Soir, which, for starters, is totally androgynous, with an emphasis, as a matter of fact, on the andro side. Then there's the huge disparity between the alleged notes and what I believe myself to perceive: a floral green with a dark foresty quality! Honestly, I was seriously debating with myself whether this was a floral green or a woody chypre! The last thing I would have guessed would have been an oriental (it is described by the house as "spicy") or floral woody musk perfume (the Fragrantica category).

To me, Belle du Soir offers a splendid afternoon stroll through a dark green forest. I say afternoon because there is an invigorating aromatic quality to the opening. As strange as this may sound, this composition seems to me like a somewhat masculine olfactory neighbor of Chanel No. 19—believe it or not. Anthropologie describes Belle du Soir thus: “musky and rich, neroli, water lily and gardenia float above notes of cedar, sandalwood and patchouli.” Hmmm.... Perhaps there was a breakdown in communication between the lab of Le Labo and their marketing department?

Whatever may be the explanation for the disparity between my experience of Belle du Soir and the house's or collaborator's description of this particular offering, I do like this perfume a lot, but it's a definite try before you buy! The name suggests Catherine Deneuve in the 1967 Luis Buñuel film "Belle du Jour" or the Fragonard perfume Belle de Nuit, which is similar to Dior J'Adore and Bond no 9 Astor Place. But Le Labo Belle du Soir could not be farther from any of them! Nor is this a patchouli perfume, oddly enough. According to my nose, this is a fairly aromatic, greenish-woody fragrance leaning toward the masculine side of the unisex line. I would not be at all surprised if some of the women who purchased this perfume scent unsniffed were disappointed with the disparity between the expectations built up by the name and their experience. Some may even have handed the bottle over to their beau!

I am fairly sure that many men would enjoy this high-quality, invigorating composition, but the question is: would they be willing to scythe their way through the racks of billowy natural fiber gray-tinged triple-washed pastel clothing in order to get to it? Good news: it's also available on line for those who bravely blind buy. That's actually what I did, because I was unable to locate the testers amidst the piles of random stuff strewn all over the store which I visited. The Anthropologie stores really are a trip, filled to the brim with all manner of, well, for lack of a better term: random stuff!

Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): neroli, water lily, gardenia, cedar, sandalwood and patchouli.

(adapted from reviews first posted at www.fragrantica.com in October 2011)

Bond No.9 Wall Street

2011-12-17T09:14:00.001-07:00

Wall Street? Really? A Boardroom type masculine would be more name-appropriate, but then again, this is New York we're tawkin about.

At any rate, the boardroom is the last thing Wall Street resembles. If I had just eaten a vegetarian meal ( sans the onions ) and was walking along a pier on the waterfront with a slight breeze blowing, this scent would be coordinated with my environment.

Bond No.9 has the notes listed as : Sea kale, Cucumber, Lavender, Ambergris and Vetiver.

Wall Street is part Ozonic, Aquatic and Vegetarian. The cucumber note isn't what I would call an accurate rendition, but it does embody a juicy, watery aspect. The "Sea Kale" is Lord knows what and that too doesn't really matter. It does have somewhat of a marine aroma. I can't claim that this fragrance has a "fishy" smell like some claim, but there is periodic hints of it during the wearings.

I honestly don't know what the concept was when they developed this or if they even had one. It doesn't smell terrible but it also doesn't smell like anything I'd want to wear on my body. The upside is that, if you happen to like this scent, it has very good sillage and longevity.

The listed ambergris ( which I normally love ) and vetiver can't bring this baby home for me. I simply do not like this and can only recommend a sample wear before purchase. Neutral rating from Aromi for Bond No.9's Wall Street.

Blu Mediterraneo Mirto di Panarea

2011-12-16T10:16:00.000-07:00

The listed notes for Acqua di Parma's Mirto di Panarea are :
Myrtle, Bergamot, Calabrian lemon, Orange, Basil
Jasmin, Rose, Green of Lilac and Blackcurrant
Lentisc, Juniper, Cedarwood and Amber

What I immediately noticed is that Mirto di Panarea wears a bit like the body sprays from Bath and Body Works. I occasionally use a misting spray called Woodland from them and Mirto is very similar in its feel.

Mirto is listed as an EDT. As I wear this scent, I keep thinking I'm smelling a soapy lavender accord underneath the spice and wood. As you can see, it's not listed, yet I smell it and it's pleasant.

The opening is nice and unoffensive. All the citric notes are a bit muddled, but they are recognizable as a citrus accord with a deft touch from basil. The projection is appropriate as is Mirto's lack of denseness. It has breathing ability, which is what you want in a fragrance of this genre.

Even the floral, spice and woody tones of Mirto aren't clear cut and precise. They're content to work as a unit instead of each note vying for attention. That's an attribute I was referring to when comparing it to Woodland. The overall experience with Mirto is good since it has decent sillage and longevity. Mirto is woodier than others I have tried from AdP and while still employing a nice citric accord, they take a slightly different path in this release.

If I had to categorize this fragrance, it would be a fresh woody. It smells clean while having some substance and I can see both genders wearing this no problem. I think Mirto would work well for a woman who's looking to wear something "clean" and less floral. This is geared for men ( I believe ), but we all know the lines are blurred when it comes to classification.

Thumbs up from Aromi for Mirto di Panarea.

L'Homme de Coeur by Parfums Divine

2011-12-15T18:14:00.000-07:00

I had to wear this a few times in order to get it. The opening kept throwing me off as to what exactly I was smelling. I wore it the first time without analyzing it, then subsequent wearings forced me to concentrate.

The opening of L'Homme de Coeur is slightly alcoholic with some herbal-woody tones to it. It's not herbaceous in the conventional sense, but it's there alongside the wood. Only a moment or two later, a musk integrates itself into the accord and this is what was causing me to focus. It wasn't until 5 minutes into the wearing that it dawned on me that angelica was the reason for not only the herbal tone but the musk.

I cannot say that this rendition of Angelica is a very good one. I use Fendi Uomo as my measuring stick, which may or may not be fair, but that's life. The implementation in L'Homme is fair at best. The problem I have with this fragrance ( overall ) is that I get minimal projection, fullness or longevity out of it. With EDP's, I expect 2 out of those 3 at least. It's simply not to be on my skin.

The iris in the heart is pleasant, yet once again, it misses the mark and the combination of notes lean more toward generic designer tha niche EDP. Even the earthy tones cannot salvage this for me. I take no pleasure in expressing my disappointment with this ( or any other ) fragrance, but I normally enjoy vetiver, juniper berry and cypress in any fashion. I don't dislike L'Homme, but I expected a bit more and can't muster any love. It gives me the "meh" response. Too bad......

Nuetral rating from Aromi for Parfums Divine 's L'Homme de Coeur.

Mirra by i Profumi di Firenze

2011-12-15T07:26:00.000-07:00

This house releases fragrances that do not get any exposure from visual promotion or word of mouth. i Profumi has its own style and comes off ( to me ) as a hybrid of old school and modern. They certainly don't attempt to be current since they claim to use very old recipes. The house is definitely worth sampling since there are some interesting fragrances in their lineup.

Now, I could be wrong about the lack of exposure, but here in the States I never hear of it nor do I see anything pertaining to past and present releases. That's too bad because after sampling enough of these, I feel this house would appeal to a certain percentage of wearers.

Mirra is very uncomplicated like quite a few others in their line. The bottom line is that it's a woody oriental. I say that only because of the vanilla base. Mirra opens with a slightly balsamic woodiness and the only real transition I get is when the vanilla starts to assert itself after 5 minutes. We have Olibanum, Myrrh, Woody and Vanilla comprising this fragrance. How can it not be linear?

Is Mirra a nice wear? Yea, it smells good, but I have to say it's a forgettable scent. The vanilla rendition isn't the best I've encountered, but then again I'm a pain in the ass when it comes to that particular note. The sillage and longevity of Mirra is adequate at best. However, I don't believe their lineup is made with the intent of releasing monstrous scents. They have a casual air about them and ( on me ) seem to work best as close fragrances.

A neutral rating from Aromi for i Profumi's Mirra. The price point of approximately $2 per ml. is simply a deterrent and doesn't seem to be commensurate with the totality of this scent.

Sanguine by Keiko Mecheri

2011-12-14T21:42:00.000-07:00

It seems I have ( unintentionally ) been sampling some orange heavy hitters as of late. While it's true that I prefer scents of this category in the warmer months, I surely don't mind sampling them in what I consider "out of season".

My sampling of the house of Mecheri has been intentional however. Mecheri fragrances have a house "touch" instead of a house note. I always considered Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier to have that going for them as well, but Mecheri seems to be more consistent with the way their fragrances flow.

Sanguine is not an over-the-top orange scent. It's an integrated orange fragrance that just so happens to have orange as the lead note. Once again, the volume is low but full. The releases follow this pattern and it seems they are made to accommodate current tolerances.

On me, Sanguine is very simplistic. A soft orange overlaid on an even softer woody-floral accord. There's also a musk lurking in the background, helping to give a bit of heft and then becomes a bit more prominent in the drydown. The sillage is very moderate and longevity is a few hours. In spite of this drawback, I like this release ( and other Mecheri's as well ) since their construction is perfectly suited for smelling full without ever annoying anyone in close quarters.

Sanguine is in stark contrast to anything resembling a cloying scent. This quality is Mecheri's fingerprint. Thumbs up from Aromi for Sanguine by Keiko Mecheri.

Bond No.9 Little Italy

2011-12-14T06:46:00.000-07:00

The reviews for Bond No.9 cover the entire spectrum of hatred to love. I fall in the middle and since I like orange, Little Italy was a pleasant and very linear wear.

There's nothing spectacular here and because of the price point of the house, it makes for a difficult decision when trying to decide on Little Italy. The sillage and longevity are average and I have no complaints about them.

This fragrance is all about Orange. I have tried others from Bond No.9 that featured the orange note, but not like this. I wouldn't go as far as saying this is a one note wonder, but it's close. The rendition of orange used here is subjective to the wearer. Real orange? Orange candy? Popsicle orange? Synthetic orange? You read the reviews and get numerous opinions and descriptions.

Personally, I don't care what "type" of orange is being implemented as long as I enjoy wearing it because it smells good. Little Italy accomplishes this. It's not great and the price truly is a deterrent. However, if I didn't know what scent it was nor the price and wore it completely blind, I would enjoy the wearing.

Little Italy defines a linear wear. To me, the orange note smells like orange, period. I'd love to tell you I was carried away to a grove in the Mediterranean with the aroma of orange and leaves swirling around my head. I wasn't transported anywhere and it doesn't matter. This is a fragrance, not a magical potion.

I have to give Bond No.9's Little Italy a neutral rating only because of the price point. It smells good, has acceptable sillage and longevity and the orange rendition is nice. Are there other, dominant orange releases that are as good, yet cheaper? I believe there are, but you could do worse.

Yellow Sea by Micallef

2011-12-12T21:03:00.000-07:00

The terms "smooth as butter" or "melts in your mouth" came to mind when I finally got to wear Micallef's Yellow Sea. This fragrance has real presence without projecting a cloud of sillage. It's actually perfect because of this attribute and is akin to the way Chanel's Coromandel wears on my skin.

When someone comes into your personal space, you had better believe they are going to know you are wearing something.....and that something is pretty damn good. This parfum has excellent longevity and THAT is at odds with the reviews I have read. Two sprays are still going strong 5 hours later.

LS has the notes listed as : Bergamot, Lemon, Patchouli, White Cedar, Incense, Amber, Castoreum and Benzoin.

Yellow Sea opens with a blend of citrus, a subtle patchouli and even less incense. I get these immediately and it's a supple rendition. The incense gradually builds momentum, never getting loud, but becoming more noticeable. The citric accord is commendable, not only for its pleasantness, but for its hang time.

After 15 minutes or so, Yellow Sea unveils a woody aspect that compliments the patchouli and incense. This transition is as good as the top accord and what impresses me is that there is no letdown anywhere in the life of this scent. The base is just as the listed notes say they are. An amber arrives, then it transforms into a van-amber with castoreum.

Yellow Sea is a shared fragrance that exhibits a more masculine side than feminine. I can't see why women couldn't pull this off and personally, I couldn't care who I smelled this on. It would smell good to me regardless.

Big thumbs up from Aromi for Micallef's Yellow Sea.

Christian Dior: Five Poisons

2011-12-11T16:23:00.025-07:00

POISON (1985)
I knew a woman many years ago who wore Poison, and that alone was enough to deter me from ever allowing the aptly named substance to come in contact with my skin. But one bright and sunny day, as a part of my ongoing quest for truth through and in perfume, I decided that I would take up the legendary elixir. Could I, in good conscience, continue on in such a state of ignorance even decades after the perfume's launch? I humbly asked myself.

No, the time had arrived, at last, to set my prejudices to one side and finally put Poison to the direct test, by wearing it myself. Was it not possible, after all, that my negative perception of the perfume was mere projection stemming from my negative impression of the woman who wore it, perhaps too heavily applied?

It is true that she wore too much make up as well, what became abundantly clear the fated morning when I bumped into her before she had spent what must have been the two hours of her daily ritual in painstaking application of yellowish cakey foundation, four coatings of navy mascara, thick liquid black eyeliner, opaque silver eye shadow and matte fuchsia lipstick, all of which contributed to her “twenty-one going on forty" appearance. Her over-processed, bleached blonde hair set with electric curlers and sprayed permanently in place with a waterproof lacquer did not help either. Nor did her Harlem nails and her skin-tight jeans, which she must have needed either a shoe-horn or perhaps some Vaseline to get into.

She was a tough lady—no doubt about it. My impression was that she concurred wholeheartedly and intuitively (having not read any of his works) with Machiavelli : It's wonderful to be both loved and feared, but if one of the two must be sacrificed, the latter will suffice. Sticks, not carrots, ensure immediate compliance with the ruler's will.

But now she was gone. I hadn't seen her for years, yet somehow her image etched in my mind continued amazingly to exert such an influence over me that my noble quest for perfume knowledge was being severely obstructed by the gaping Poison lacuna imposed by what had become a merely chimerical figure from whom I had nothing to fear. It wasn't just that my memory of her had prevented my testing of the original Poison. No, much worse, I had steered clear of the entire Poison series, such was her hold on my imagination.

There are occasions in each person's life when she wakes up as from a dream and realizes that it's finally time to let go, to slay the demons and throw off the chains still shackling her mind. My heartfelt hope was that I might discover that Poison really wasn't that bad after all, that, perhaps, I was just a tad bit olfactorily unsophisticated at the time when I forged an unforgettable association between a certain imposing person and this famous perfume. Perhaps my mental connection of this perfume with that woman had kept me in a benighted state and prevented me from appreciating what many others have identified as a truly great creation.
...

Alas, on occasion I am not wrong, and today, with some degree of sorrow, I am prepared here boldly to proclaim that I did not make a grave mistake—or even a tiny error—in refusing to don this perfume for more than twenty years. Poison strikes me (violent metaphor entirely intended!) as a direct ancestor of Thierry Mugler Angel—minus the redeeming drydown of the latter.

Dark purple fruits—grape jelly or plum jam, as you like (or not...)—and a gob of other stuff (see notes, below...) which together creates a je ne sais quoi concoction (but is it perfume?) so potent that I am frankly surprised that the FDA permits this potion to be sold in spray bottles! Honestly, I was wearing maybe .05 ml of my 1ml sample vial (yes, still 95% full), yet I labored under an intense headache from the moment the juice hit my skin. Were you perhaps wearing pure perfume? cynics may surmise. No, not at all: this was the edt!

Do women really enjoy wearing Poison? Isn't it about as comfortable as false eyelashes, a girdle, and a beehive hairdo? Isn't it like wearing shoes three sizes too small in order to shrink one's feet? Or foregoing anesthesia before having a cavity filled?

Upon this, my first direct and physiological encounter with the Poison “perfume moment” in history, I became immediately convinced that this liquid may well have been solely responsible for the rabid anti-perfume backlash of the 1990s. Mon dieu!

I have read reviews in which perfumistas wiser than I advise spraying perfumes such as Angel and Poison into the air and then walking through the mist thus created. Others prescribe a very light spritz at the hip level. Perhaps, on another occasion, in, say, twenty more years, I'll give that a try.

Perfumer: Edouard Fléchier
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): plum, allspice, coriander, wildberries, orange honey, tuberose, opopanax, incense, cinnamon, anise, jasmine, rosewood, amber, vanilla, musk, sandalwood, heliotrope, vetiver, carnation, neroli, cedar, and rose

PURE POISON (2004)
I naturally approached Pure Poison with some trepidation, given what had been my recent traumatic experience with Agent Purple. Could there be a potion less unadulterated by nontoxic components than Poison itself? I nervously asked myself, while running a preemptive bath.

Well, it turns out that Pure Poison is yet another badly named flanker, in this case, to my considerable relief. Pure Poison bears little, if any, resemblance to its namesake, offering a strong but alluring white flower elixir which opens sweet and becomes progressively more clean, even somewhat soapy, over time. The rich consistency reminds me in some ways of Robert Piguet Fracas, although the notes are of course very different, as tuberose is nowhere in Pure Poison to be sniffed, and Fracas is not at all soapy. What connects them in my mind is probably that both compositions seem to me to be creamy and white, with real potential for addiction.

Jasmine is definitely the star of the Pure Poison show, which in its pristine whiteness is entirely untainted by anything purple, Grace à dieu (or reasonable facsimile...). The one similarity I did find to Poison was that Pure Poison, too, is so strong that only a small application brought me close to the cusp of a headache. One more drop, and I'd have been over the top. But lightly applied, I liked it a lot.

Perfumers: Carlos Benaim, Dominique Ropion, Olivier Polge
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com):jasmine, gardenia, neroli, white amber, sandalwood, bergamot, cedar, orange, mandarin

HYPNOTIC POISON (1998)
I retain a memory from long ago of a small red bottle (sample or mini) from Dior containing a perfume which I rather liked, but never pursued for some reason... Thanks to a fellow fragrant traveler, I was afforded the opportunity to rediscover it once again. That perfume was none other than the next stop in my journey through the land of Poison: Hypnotic Poison.

Another poorly named flanker—happily!—Hypnotic Poison falls into the general category occupied by Lancôme Trésor, Chôpard Casmir, and Esteé Lauder/Aramis Tuscany per Donna, in my personal olfactory memory bank filing system. Like these other viscous elixirs, Hypnotic Poison, too, is a big, expansive sweet perfume, in this case, an oriental vanilla which verges on gourmand—well, unless you're one of the wearers who arrives at a Playdoh drydown, although it's probably worth observing that some children apparently do eat Playdoh when their parents are not around...

I have to admit that after reading the root beer and Playdoh reviews, I seemed to succumb to the power of suggestion, as I began to detect those notes in Hypnotic Poison as well, with the result that what once seemed vaguely exotic suddenly began to smell a bit too familiar. All too familiar, in fact.

Added to that, I also feel that I really have moved on to new perfume frontiers, having left Trésor, Casmir, and Tuscany per Donna and other perfumes in their neighborhood far behind quite some time ago. Suffice it to say, then, that I won't be acquiring a bottle of Hypnotic Poison anytime soon—at least not until such time as I experience another seismic olfactory shift, that is. For now it's a bit thick and insistent for a comfort scent and just too sweet to be much of anything else for me.

The only similarities I found between Hypnotic Poison and Agent Purple were the concentration and sillage: Dior has apparently not succumbed to market pressures to dilute in order to increase the volumes (literally and figuratively) of the perfumes which they sell, and that probably explains why even some of their perfumes launched decades ago continue to command MSRPs. I have not seen a lot of Dior offerings at the discount emporia, where many other brands fob off reformulated and/or watered-down nonsense for a fraction of what the original perfumes once cost.

Dior's strategy appears instead to be to produce endlessly proliferating series of flankers of flankers of flankers, to stretch marketing campaigns to ever-greater lengths and squeeze the most that they can out of their investment in the original bottle design!

Perfumer:Annick Menardo
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): vanilla, almond, coconut, allspice, sandalwood, jasmine, rosewood, plum, tuberose, apricot, lily of the valley, rose

TENDRE POISON (1994)
Continuing my travels down the fated but not always so poisonous path of Agent Purple flankers, I next arrived at Tendre Poison, and what a surprisingly not-so-tender elixir I found it to be!

While initially applying this potion, I actually spilled my sample vial down my décolleté and suffered from an instantaneous headache, along with a distinct déjà senti experience as a flash of purple lights pulsated in my brain until at last the scent had dissipated enough for me to get my wits about me again.

From there, the composition morphed into a very strong white floral soapiness, somewhat similar to Pure Poison but quite a bit less floral and quite a bit more soapy. Bright white soap, to be more precise. Perhaps even fluorescent white.

Strong stuff, this flanker is! In fact, on taking another look at the vial, which I thought I had nearly emptied, I found that it was still 80% full! Phew! Hats off to Dior for not skimping on whatever powerhouse components are found in not-so-Tendre Poison, but honestly, this should be called a parfum, not an edt. Why there was enough in my tiny vial to scent an entire pallet—in the stevedore sense—of soap!!!!

Yes, believe it or not, a single 1 ml sample vial of Tendre Poison could be used to scent this much soap:

A full ounce of Tendre Poison could be used to scent this much soap:

One day I'm sure that I'll muster up the courage to try Tendre Poison again in a nanodose, at which point I'll be able to issue my final verdict... For now, let's just say that Tendre Poison has done nothing to refute my longstanding view that perfumes boasting asafoetida as a note should probably bear a skull-and-crossbones warning label.

Have you by chance smelled the original Escada?

Better yet, have you ever smelled asafoetida straight up, my fragrant friends?

If not, please stop by an Indian spice emporium or grocer one day soon and give the stuff a sniff. Don't worry, you don't have to buy any—or even open up the jar. Those of you who like to prepare fine Indian cuisine chez vous may well have this item in your kitchen, which I myself found necessary to store inside a tightly clamped glass canning jar inside a sealed cooler.

Yes, as incredible as this may sound, the stench of asafoetida penetrates multiple layers of plastic or even glass! Why, you might even be able to smell it from the parking lot!

Perfumer: Edouard Fléchier
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): tuberose, bergamot, ►asafoetida◄, freesia, honey, mandarin, neroli, rose, rosewood, sandalwood, vanilla, musk, and heliotrope

MIDNIGHT POISON (2007)
I had been exercising a good deal of caution in my travels down the trail of Agent Purple flankers, practically tiptoeing, in fact, by taking long, multi-day "breathers" (literally and figuratively) between each potion to allow the completion of a full detox process before moving on.

One starry night, however, lured in by a glance at the clock fast approaching midnight, I threw caution to the wind and pulled out my sample of Midnight Poison, the last in the series of first-order flankers. I knew that there were now flankers of flankers, and even flankers of flankers of flankers, but for the time being, my sense of relative completion of the immediate task at hand was near... What did I learn through this long, sometimes headache-ridden journey?

Note to self (and anyone else who intends to embark on this adventure): Ignore, I repeat: ignore, on any bottle bearing the name 'Poison' and produced by Dior, the labels 'edt' and 'edp'. Each and every one of these liquids needs to be treated as parfum.

Yes, upon applying Midnight Poison, too, I was immediately stopped in my tracks by a splitting headache. Did I perhaps spray too much on? No, I did not spray at all. I dabbed, ever-so-gingerly, a tiny fraction of my sample vial and the tell-tale Poison headache rehydrated within seconds. This must mean something! I thought to myself and jotted down a note on my mind's neuro-tablet to peruse the list (circulating around the Fragrantica threads) of the "most toxic perfumes". Turns out that my hunch was right: the Poison series made an impressive showing on that list.

Do I like Midnight Poison, setting aside my personal headache problem? Yes, I have to say that, after flushing my lungs with adequate fresh air and thus effectively loosening the vice grip clamped on my cranium, I did enjoy the drydown. Overall, I found Midnight Poison to be a dark, woody oriental with thick, rich, abiding patchouli and a nice spiciness with potential appeal for guys and gals alike—provided that they do not overapply!

By now it goes perhaps without saying that the longevity and sillage of Midnight Poison, too, are unsurpassed. But I'll have to take this perfume up once again after a thorough twelve-step detox program, featuring lots of filtered water and natural perfumes, before I can determine whether this is something that I can actually enjoy (by applying only a nanodose) rather than simply endure.

Perfumers: Jacques Cavallier, Oliver Cresp, François Demachy
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): patchouli, rose, amber, vanilla, mandarin

What is the moral of my tale of travels through the province of Poison? Simply this:

Marketers do not always lie.

(adapted from reviews posted at www.fragrantica.com in November and December 2010)

Miller et Bertaux Shanti Shanti

2011-12-10T20:40:00.000-07:00

If I'm correct, the name of this fragrance is referring to the request for peace over our environmental disturbances. As shocking as this may come, I have been known to periodically make an error, so if this is the case, I apologize beforehand.
I allow myself one every 11 years, which still isn't as good as Chuck Norris's record, but I'm working on it.

Rose, Iris, Cardamom, Patchouli and Sandalwood are the listed notes.

The opening of Shanti Shanti is slightly alcoholic ( but enjoyably so ). It's accompanied by a soft, but noticeable iris and cardamom. The iris ( naturally ) is a bit spicy due to this, but it never evolves into a powdery rendition on me. The rose arrives right on time as the heart accord begins toning down the intro and elevating the floral component.

So far, about 20 minutes has passed and Shanti Shanti is still at moderate volume and semi-transparent. This is a sheer scent, but only in part. It has room to breathe, yet it still retains a certain denseness about it. The rose, iris and spice are still the players and its uncomplicated nature is welcome. I can clearly detect all of them and am impressed by how long its duration is.

It isn't until the extended drydown that a fuzzy, woody-patch makes a very, low key appearance. Shanti Shanti is already a linear fragrance and it's not hurt one way or the other by its inability to morph beyond the opening and heart. In this case, simplicity is the best course of action.

For those who enjoy rose, iris and cardamom, I suggest you take this for a ride. Sillage is modest and longevity is surprisingly good. Thumbs up from Aromi for Miller et Bertaux and his peaceful solution.

Rose d'Homme EDP by Les Parfums de Rosine

2011-12-10T17:46:00.000-07:00

I have never sampled this house before trying Rose d'Homme. The first thing that struck me wearing this scent was the leather note. The second thing to make me take note was the fact that this wears like an EDT in spite of being advertised as an Eau de Parfum.

This could be my skin type however. I have been known to absorb like a sponge, so please take that statement with a grain of salt. At any rate, Rose d'Homme opens with a ambiguous citric note and leather with a hint of rose. The leather rendition in this is reminiscent of the suede and rubber sole aroma ( combined ) from a new shoe. It's good in a strange way, but I prefer my leather a bit differently.

What baffles me most is the name. The rose ( on me ) is most assuredly not a dominant note or theme. I assumed a floral array would be front and center, yet they only play minor roles in Rose d'Homme. Through the heart accord, the new shoe-rubber aura persists with very subtle hints of vetiver and rose. Even before the drydown, I find myself underwhelmed.

The base and drydown doesn't bring any surprises. It's what I already described but at a softer volume. Patchouli does lend a sliver of earthiness to Rose d'Homme after 20 minutes, but I cannot say that it salvages this for me. I find this release on the bland side and since the leather is dominant on me, it would have helped if the rendition was of a different ilk. I can't muster any love here, so it's time to move on...........

Neutral rating from Aromi for Rose d'Homme.

Les 4 Saisons : Automne by Micallef

2011-12-10T09:45:00.000-07:00

I have to say that I thoroughly enjoy the opening of Automne by M.Micallef. It's a very sheer accord of citrus and fruit. This house has a penchant for lucid accords sans any heavy handedness. The flip side to numerous Micallef creations is that, on my skin at least, the longevity is a factor.

The heart in Automne consists of saffron, nutmeg and cumin. Before the wearings, I was expecting either a little harshness or possibly some off putting moments, but it never transpired. All the movement in Automne is smooth and gentle and the heart rendition is set at low volume. It seems that once the opening dissipates, the presence of this fragrance takes on a shy persona.

The cumin-saffron is the most noticeable duo and nutmeg is content to contribute periodic whiffs. It's actually a very well done implementation and co-exists with the berry accord that's still hanging on. This spicy berry accord lasts a respectable amount of time and the overall fragrance hovers fairly close to the skin. Most of the Micallef releases I have worn so far have this in common. They don't possess very noticeable projection, yet I'm inclined to think that this is done by design and not because of any inferior technique or ingredient issue. I'm persuaded that this house simply tunes their creations in this manner. To be louder would possibly be less elegant? This is an educated guess on my part.

The base and drydown are as subtle as you would expect. I speak in terms of volume, not substance. A vanilla slowly inserts itself into the transition along with a passive wood note. There's patchouli listed, but it's lost on me. The vanilla is smooth and calm and doesn't have any of the candle associations that I find irritating. In the extended drydown, I get a musk note that's not listed, but there it is anyway......and it smells good.

In totality, Automne is a very nice scent that leans a little more towards feminine than shared. It still can be worn by men and I will wear it since I have a bottle. Spicy fruit ( berry ) that evolves into a vanilla woody with low projection but acceptable longevity. I get about 4 hours before I want to reapply. The downside is the price, but can be had on ebay auctions for very good prices if you pick your shots. I did and it's worth what I paid for it all day.

Thumbs up from Aromi for M.Micallef's Automne.

Escada Pour Homme

2011-12-10T01:32:00.000-07:00

This particular 1993 release has caused me to come full circle. At first, I loved it and then over time, I became indifferent to it. Now, years later, I have been revisiting it and realize that it truly is a very good masculine fragrance. I assume I needed to part ways with it, for a time, in order to appreciate it.

The opening accord ( at least to me ) is the star here. The remainder of the scent is very good, but is hard pressed to keep pace with the topnotes. Escada Pour Homme begins with an excellent accord of spicy citrus and a slight booziness. The citric accord is very enjoyable and as it evolves, orange comes to the fore. It's not a big, bold rendition. It's simply recognizable as such along with the spiciness and it's this duo that I find terrific. It doesn't have rough edges nor is it bracing.

All good things must end however. The opening succumbs within 10 minutes to a tempered , spicy accord with a hint of fruitiness and softened florals. This heart accord has numerous listed notes, but what comes to fruition on me is the nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom and juniper. The geranium and carnation are blurred, but it's all good. The accord stands on its own and is restrained compared to the first 10 minutes.

The base and drydown are of the woodiental variety. Sandalwood, vanilla and tonka with a dash of patchouli. There's a slight muskiness as Escada Pour Homme goes into drydown and it works efficiently. The vanilla and tonka never assume a loud posture and even the patchouli takes a relaxed stance. This doesn't equate into "weak". It's simply a matter of the volume tuned down as it still smells "full". The sillage is average and longevity is about 4 hours on me.

Escada Pour Homme gets a thumbs up from Aromi. This has been dc'ed and ( at least ) right now, it can still be had for a decent price if you pick your shots on ebay.

Mona di Orio.......simply too young.....

2011-12-09T14:37:00.001-07:00

I just heard the news that Mona di Orio has passed away. I know nothing of the particulars concerning this, but I admit that it has left me feeling extremely sad.

Young, talented, attractive and the person behind some pretty terrific and daring fragrances. My sympathies go out to her family and co-workers.

Mona will be missed by not just those closest to her. Her line of work touches strangers as well as those involved in her life. I know she influenced mine with her creations and I truly admire her talent.

Bois de Gaiac et Poire by Miller et Bertaux

2011-12-09T07:44:00.000-07:00

Miller et Bertaux puts out some interesting and creative perfumes. Marcy from Lusciouscargo threw this in my most recent sample package as one of her numerous ( and generous) freebies. ( Thanks again Marcy ! )

The first thing I noticed about wearing Bois de Gaiac et Poire was the combination of citrus, pear, almond and wood. It's a very nice opening accord and I'm surprised I haven't heard more about this scent since it's been around awhile.

Bois de Gaiac et Poire is also a shared fragrance. It blurs the lines of gender and I would have no problems wearing this fragrance for a night out. The sillage and longevity are commendable but not ill mannered.

The notes listed for Bois de Gaiac et Poire are : Lemon, Mandarin, Jasmin, Rose, Gaiac, Pear, Cinnamon, Heliotrope and Almond.

About 15 minutes into the wearings, rose and jasmin start rearing their heads and augment the almond note nicely. The pear has subsided on me by this time and has been replaced by the very subtle cinnamon. The woodiness of this scent is a soft rendition and is content to stay in the background until the drydown. It is more noticeable by then as a matter of default, yet after smelling the transitions, I am convinced it's at the correct volume all the way through.

The rose note also becomes more prominent as Bois de Gaiac et Poire dries down. It's a nice implementation and has a bit of spiciness to it. I like this woody rose with spice that lasts for a few hours. I can't say that this fragrance is spectacular because it isn't. It is very good however and the drydown is right up my alley.

Thumbs up from Aromi for Miller et Bertaux and BdGeP. This is a sleeper woody rose.

O'Driù LAFRO (Olfactive Obsessions) Italian Uber Niche

2011-12-09T06:35:00.009-07:00

LAFRO EDP 50ml

TOP NOTES
jasmine, mandarin, tarragon, afa
MIDDLE NOTES
cumin, lemon, goat milk, oxidized silver
BASE NOTES
incence, orange-flower, dry grass, musk

LAFRO stays for italian L'Afro which means The African and it's basically a bold and insanely powerful concoction of herbs and spices laying on a solid animalic musky base and incense. It opens with an arresting accord of cumin and terragon joined by sour lemon. If you don't like cumin you should better stay carefully away from this...

The opening is quite brutal and can result seriously challenging to someone. It's sweaty, unpretty and extremely spicy/aromatic. The typical sweaty espect of the caraway is emphasized to the maximum and, in this phase, LAFRO brings to mind of the hottest periods of the year in the most torrid zones of the planet. Markets of spices, incenses, african food, hay...a true to life experience. Be careful on the trigger as in this phase the fragrance projects for yards!

Jasmin makes its appearance providing some balance and bringing the composition to a slightly more conventional territory. Herbs and spices settle down and assume a more "familiar" allure while musk starts lurking in the back together with incense. Now we're in and old apotheke with all the aromatic herbs stored inside the ceramic jars. Handwritten labels, some dust, dark mahogany forniture, tisane blends...

The animalic musk starts showing its presence more consistently joined by incense and hints of leather (the latter being very similar to the one in Leather Oud but definitely toned down). The initial herbal/spicy aspect is still quite remarkable but the fragrance becomes definitely more approachable for anyone who's into dark musks. This is the final phase where LAFRO stays quite close to the skin for more than 8 hours.

Overall LAFRO speaks of quality, smells very natural and takes the distance from the huge amount of pretentious niche outfits promising stereotyped luxury. LAFRO is about going back to basics. The luxury of a wild safari as opposed to a tuxedo at the opera premiere and a limo. It has the typical "crudeness" of those african votive wood statues. They're crude but nonetheless fascinating.

Downside: Surely not among the most versatile compositions around.

For infos http://www.odriu.it/

Route du Vetiver by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier

2011-12-08T22:42:00.000-07:00

This review is of the reformulated 100ml. rendition. I wore the original version in the past and it almost succeeded in removing my nasal passages without the assistance of a scalpel. Because of that, I avoided trying this newer creation.

I'm glad I grew a set. Every now and then, I run across a reformulation that works better for me than the original. It isn't often mind you, but it's happened a few times. Now, I'm not claiming that YOU will like it better than the original. I, for one, do and find the 90ml. version too harsh for my tastes.

Route du Vetiver consists of : Bourbon vetiver, Blackcurrant, Precious woods, Jasmin, Sandalwood and Musk.

RdV has with a strangely familiar "wool" aroma reminiscent to that of Parfum d'Habit. They're not the same, but I get the wool vibe in both. It is toned down in RdV, but find it noticeable enough to mention it. I can only attribute this to the vetiver and blackcurrant combinations. I actually like it much better in RdV than I do PdH.

The opening of Route du Vetiver doesn't afford me any booziness. What I get is a slightly alcoholic shot of hazy wool. The vetiver evolves on my skin steadily to unveil itself once the top accord settles down. The musk is the next note that integrates itself into the transition and it has a silkiness to it. As far as the jasmin and wood components go, they are in the mix and on the muddled side. The jasmin does enhance the musk note, but I still find it blurred.

Route du Vetiver evolves not much more than this in my wearings. It's sufficient the way it is however and it is constructed in a similar fashion to PdH. I find it an acquired taste and am quite sure vetiver hounds would find this rendition an enjoyable experience.

A fragrance can be good and not suitable for you at the same time. That's where I stand with RdV. I know good after I wear it numerous times, but I'm not inclined to add it to my wardrobe.

Thumbs up from Aromi for Route du Vetiver. A sample wear is recommended.

Iris Bleu Gris by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier

2011-12-08T17:54:00.000-07:00

MPG is a house I have liked since I first tried any of their releases. While it may be true that not every one I have tried ( or owned ) was what I consider a great fragrance, they all offered uniqueness. It's also true that they are well made scents. The bottles however are a love-it-or-hate-it affair.

Personally, I like the vintage 90ml. bottles much better than the 100ml. They are fashioned like cut glass and have a spray mechanism that screws off. It's much easier to decant from these 90ml. bottles than being forced to spray into a funnel.

Iris Bleu Gris is a release I assumed I'd be more or less indifferent to. I figured I'd like it to a degree since it's an MPG frag, but to own an iris dominant scent is another matter altogether. Much to my surprise, Iris Bleu Gris ( as expected ) features iris, but no where is it dominated by it in the conventional sense. The iris, on my skin, isn't a very powdery rendition either and is rather a toned down version of the note.

IBG opens with an exceptional accord of citrus and green. The citric combo consists of lemon and bergamot while the green note is reminiscent of young, unripe leaf. The iris is there from the very beginning, but allows everything around it to be noticed clearly. These 4 players stick around for about 30 minutes before relenting enough to permit the jasmin playing time. This floral note increases its presence incrementally, but never oversteps its bounds. Once the jasmin has peaked, a soft rendition of vanilla arrives smoothing out any ripples. There's also a very subtle, leathery quality that adds some body to the first half of this fragrance.

The base accord implements Moss, Musk and Vetiver. This fragrance, in its entirety, is never loud or obtrusive. Once Iris Bleu Gris dries down, the earthier elements gradually take their positions and the outro of this offering is as respectable as the intro and heart. All in all, this is yet another fine fragrance from Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier that feels appropriate for basically any setting. It will simply have you smelling good and mind its manners at the same time.

Thumbs up from Aromi for this very good masculine from MPG.

A thank you to Lusciouscargo

2011-12-07T22:12:00.000-07:00

I wanted to take this opportunity to give a big thank you to Marcy over at Lusciouscargo for her outstanding service, presentation, communication and willingness to satisfy her clientele.

It doesn't matter if you're buying bottles or samples. Marcy has shown she is willing to go that something extra. I just want to give folks a heads up that if Lusciouscargo has what you are looking for, I have to recommend that you truly consider them for your purchase. I don't say that lightly as I purchase numerous fragrances from different retailers during the course of each year.

Lusciouscargo really is good to go........and Marcy is a big reason for that. Thanks again for some very pleasant ( and recent ) transactions.

The Knize Toiletries

2011-12-07T10:26:00.016-07:00

...from the Knize website...

"Knize's distinguished history began in the 19th century, when Habsburg Archdukes contracted its services. Durinng the 1920's with the help of the designer Ernst Dryden, Knize became known throughout the world as the first label of stylish menswear..."

"In producing scents, Knize begins with an overall consideration of how a gentleman appeals to the senses. At the same time "Fashion Design" came about in the 1920's, Knize began producing KNIZE TEN, the world's first series of unique men's fragrances, whose seductive appeal is as strong today as it was eighty years ago".

Knize Ten

A love it or hate it scent and possibly one of the best masculine fragrances ever produced. Knize Ten is a typical, conceptual example of "expensive doesn't always mean good". It is very reasonably priced and at the same time better than almost any other expensive male leather fragrance available on the market.

An prototypical leather fragrance and one of the very few pre-WWII leather compositions that carefully avoided disastrous reformulations. Made by Franoise Coty and Vincent Roubert, Knize Ten is a pillar of earlier perfumery and something we all should preserve from oblivion.

The opening is literally shocking (to me in a good way, but can be challenging to someone) with a severe and breathtaking explosion of leather. If you like it, fine, if you don't, just try to survive for a while. The drydown of Knize Ten turns into an incredibly comfortable and wearable scent. A magnificent, rounded amber smoothes the ever dominant, animalic leather by adjusting its initial severity and harshness with a delightful warmness. Flowery patterns (ylang-ylang and jasmine), some spices and woods has everything smelling so rich and incredibly balanced. It is absolutely distinctive.

Knize became the benchmark of masculine leather fragrances and after eighty years it's still one of the most successful compositions ever. An all time favourite and a great example of how an older, classic perfume can still be tremendous in its ability to transcend trends.

Like it or not, there's only one like it.

Knize Ten Golden Edition

Launched at the turn of the millennium to celebrate the 75th anniversary of Knize Ten, the Golden Edition strikes me as a "smoother", polished and civilized version of the original. Slightly richer in amber and a toned down leather.

Maybe less compelling than its older brother but still amazing. Could make a fantastic option for anyone who finds the original a tad too challenging.

Knize Two

Launched in 1978. A promising opening with a clean mix of aldehydes, green notes and a hint of almond. In the middle phase, rose and jasmine play a big role in turning Knize Two into a soapy-floral fragrance that's still quite interesting, but maybe a little too mannered. In the drydown, I still get a lot of alternating jasmine and rose. It's as if they were jumping in and out of synch on a dry woody base.

Overall Knize Two is a nice composition and a good alternative to the huge amount of fresh "non-fragrances" available on the market. It has great longevity and good sillage, but most of all it has the special retrò-feel that makes it quite an unique fragrance. Lovers of Caraceni 1913 should definitely give this a try...

Knize Sec

Launched in 1985,Sec has a drastically dry citrus/frankincense/sage opening, enriched in the drydown by amber, shy flowery accords and a remarkable coriander note with hints of leather. Sort of like a dried to the bone Knize Ten. Not very much to add as this composition is quite simple and linear, yet incredibly satisfying. Maybe not one of the most distinctive perfumes around, but If you're into straight-forward, austere frankincense fragrances you'll probably dig this. I do.

Knize Forest

Launched in 1993. This, together with Knize Ten, is the most interesting composition in the Knize's range. A green fougère that in many apsects recalls the more popular Green Irish Tweed (expecially during the inital phase). A pine and herbal opening (mainly rosemary and sage) with hints of mint that evolves into an oakmoss and sandalwood drydown. Overall Knize Forest is airy and salubrious and will make the many coneheads out there very happy. Long lasting, refined, distinctive and a lot cheaper than GIT.

Lady Knize

Launched in 1955. Among the Knizes this is definitely my least favorite. A well mannered version of Knize Two with emphasis on the florals to obtain a more feminine result. Extremely classic and old-fashioned, but a bit stereotyped and outdated.

Hermès: Les Quatre Jardins

2011-12-06T17:24:00.014-07:00

I think it's fair to say that reverence has never been my strong suit. Nor has the term blandishment often, if ever, been associated with my name. So when I hear people talking about figures who supposedly walk on water and the like, my quite natural reaction is one of skepticism. I am particularly wary of such claims as applied to human-all-too-human beings by other human-all-too-human beings in matters regarding values, as opposed to factual hypotheses. In the case of alleged empirical facts, there is at a possibility of some form of testing, so the claims being made can be either confirmed or disconfirmed. In the case of values? The closest we could get would be a popularity poll, but I've never been one to support ochlocracy.

People like to have role models, it is clear, and in extreme cases such as those involving religious cults and nation states, people have been known do some pretty ridiculous things in the name of false idols. Even wildly heinous crimes have been committed in good conscience by overzealous acolytes, all in the name of supposedly “great men”.

Is anyone alive “the greatest living X” for any given X? Such claims usually don't make much sense to me, since they tend to be based on some other human beings' assertion of the same, based on their own obviously finite experience and values. The basis of such claims, in other words, are the opinions of yet more human-all-too-human beings, historically situated in highly contingent circumstances, which have in many ways shaped their values, albeit perhaps unbeknownst to them. Is it beyond the realm of possibility, for example, that some entirely unknown perfumers are actually better perfumers (as opposed to marketers of their wares) than those who are famous to perfumistas today?

Given my naturally skeptical bent, I take the words of everyone about anyone and anything with a grain of salt. In my view, names and reputations mean nothing next to what the people with names and reputations actually produce. Perhaps this or that perfumer is the best of those currently living, and then again maybe not. It seems to me that, in the grand scheme of things, it does not really matter very much how or whether we apply those labels at all. Those sorts of labels may help to market products, but they do not change what they are. In the case of perfume, what matters to me is only the quality of perfumers' wares when I decide to wear them.

UN JARDIN EN MEDITERRANEE (2003)
My first experience with Un Jardin en Méditerranée was sufficiently positive to motivate me to acquire a purse spray (15ml). Since then I must confess that I have not reached for this fragrance often. There is something about the opening which reminds me of a cross between Thierry Mugler Womanity and Estée Lauder Pleasures, both of which unfortunately become annoying to me after a short while. Figs, peppery florals, and a vaguely wet quality conspire to evoke chimerical Womanity-Pleasures memories, or something along those lines, at least for a short time.

I don't think that this composition is annoying over the entire course of a wear, but its first stage reminds me of an amalgam of two rather annoying fragrances, so I'm not all that enthusiastic about it. Fortunately, the cedar and cypress take over shortly thereafter, at which point I really warm up to the fragrance as a whole. Still, I do not enjoy being reminded of Womanity and Pleasures every time I spray on Un Jardin en Méditerranée, and this unavoidable association naturally serves to deter me from doing so more often than I might otherwise.

These sorts of associations are bound to arise with exposure to iconic (and quasi-ubiquitous) fragrances sharing significant subsets of notes, particularly when those combinations have not been very common before. Perhaps the best example in contemporary perfumery is Thierry Mugler Angel. Dozens, if not hundreds of recent launches, immediately elicit spontaneous responses from countless reviewers of “Smells like Angel.” Why is that? Because Angel served up its peculiar concoction of notes before all of the vaguely (or blatantly!) Angel-esque perfumes created since.

Of course, everything smells like everything to a greater or lesser degree, which is why in writing reviews a person who is familiar with only Chanel no. 5 may sincerely report that every perfume she smells is redolent of that perfume. And it is probably true that every perfume smells more like Chanel no. 5 than it smells like water! I've actually noticed this phenomenon a lot in reviews written by people with obviously limited experience who often assimilate what I regard as radically disparate perfumes because they do in fact smell more like each other to the reviewer than do any other two perfumes in their experience.

So to defend myself from the charge that my comparing the opening of Un Jardin en Méditerranée to Womanity and Pleasures is rather like comparing Guerlain Samsara to Chanel no. 5, I should clarify that I do not in fact believe that the compositions are even close to the same. It's just that this fragrance evokes vague memories of those fragrances, and from there my experience is more or less that of Pavlov's dog.

I have read many reviews of Un Jardin en Méditerranée, and I must say that I find the range of receptions to this composition fascinating. It's not just that people disagree a little about the details. No, the people who dislike it appear to detest it! I certainly don't find it unwearable and vile (as do some) but neither do I consider it a "must have," as do its ardent fans. In all likelihood, I won't be acquiring a larger bottle of this creation, as I'll probably never deplete my small supply.

For those looking for advice, there's no point in attempting to navigate all of the conflicting evaluations, since this fragrance clearly manifests itself differently on different wearers. It's up to you to decide.

Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Salient notes (from

http://www.fragrantica.com/): mandarin orange, bergamot, lemon, fig leaf, neroli, oleander, cypress, musk, juniper, red cedar, pistachio

UN JARDIN SUR LE NIL (2005)
In Un Jardin sur le Nil, the opening salvo of salty green shredded mango is rather bitter and nearly sour enough to qualify as a pickle. But that impression subsides relatively quickly, at which point a strong steamed rice-like note takes over this composition, along with what smells to me like green tea. Conclusion: this smells more like a scene from Japan than the shores of the Nile. (I have been to Japan, but not to the shore of the Nile, so perhaps the latter really does smell more like this fragrance than does Japan! cf. Chanel no. 5, see above...)

In oscillating waves, the quasi-rice note wafts sometimes of rice cakes or even vaguely of popcorn! In fact, now that I think about it, there is an almost genmaicha tea scent here—albeit slightly too bitter. Judging by what some other reviewers have written, I gather that I'm an outlier on this one. I do believe that this member of the Jardin series is more original than Méditerranée or Mousson, but its originality is not enough to overcome the sour quality which would definitely prevent me from wearing it as anything but a novelty scent.

The refreshing, even slightly bracing quality of the opening might serve as an aromatherapeutic mood elevator, I suppose, but I cannot really imagine wanting to wear this composition as I ordinarily wear perfume.

On to the next minimalist creation by J.-C. Ellena, who does indeed appear to have a serious cult following, judging by some of the positive reviews!

Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Salient notes (from

http://www.fragrantica.com/): Green mango, grapefruit, tomato, lotus, carrot, bulrush, incense, orange, musk, orris, hyacinth, calamus, sycamore wood, peony, labdanum, and cinnamon

UN JARDIN APRES LA MOUSSON (2008)
In spite of its reputation, I've never regarded Un Jardin Après la Mousson as very melony at all, certainly not compared to, say, Hilde Soliani Dopo Teatro Mangiami, which is all melon all the time. Although there is a detectable melon-like quality in the opening of this J.-C. Ellena Hermès Jardin offering, the peppery vetiver swiftly takes over and dominates the composition, which to my nose is quite dry for most of its life—in contrast to what I would have expected to smell dans Un Jardin Après la Mousson.

I find myself, again, somewhat amazed at the manifest detestation of this composition by so many reviewers, which leads me to believe, yet again, that how these relatively simple notes work together and express themselves varies quite a bit from wearer to wearer. Melon notes obviously amplify radically on some people's but not others' skin. Indeed, we may actually have a case in point here as regards the controversial skin chemistry dispute!

Another possibility is that the melon note was so off-putting to some reviewers that they could not stomach a full wear and so never made it to the dry down, as they dashed off for a sudsing and scrub. Others report having experienced melon from start to finish, so that note must be particularly salient on their skin.

Many people have complained about what they take to be the “synthetic” melon note, but my understanding is that all fruit notes in perfumes are synthetic, so I suppose that the substantive criticism is more that this one does not smell like fresh or real melon to them. I've smelled some pretty awful melon renditions myself, and comparatively speaking, this one smells pretty good to me—although it is rather evanescent.

That said, although I find it wearable and even somewhat pleasant under certain weather conditions, I cannot get very excited about this entry in the Hermès line-up. It certainly fits right in with the minimalist “capture a scene” Jardin series. The quality of components has never been in question, at least not in any of the creations of this house familiar to me. So what is in question is only the aesthetic conception and execution.

Lest anyone forget, this is the perfumer who also created Van Cleef & Arpels First, next to which the Jardin series seems like the proverbial pendulum swinging way back in the other direction. I'm certainly not blaming the perfumer for having lived a life full of twists and turns, only lamenting this radical change in view as regards his creative output. In my heart of hearts, I suppose that I hope that it might swing back once again... Well, at least we already know that he's not a dogmatist!

In all seriousness, given his already massively prolific oeuvre, the guy has every right in the world to spend the rest of his life twiddling his thumbs, or even bottling aromachemicals and marking them up 10,000%. Under Ellena's creative direction, Hermès has become a strong contender for my “desert island” house. Which is not, however, to say that I think he walks on water!

Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Salient notes (from http://www.fragrantica.com/): ginger, coriander, cardamom, pepper, and vetiver

UN JARDIN SUR LE TOIT (2011)

My first impression upon donning Un Jardin sur le Toit was that this was basically a fruity-floral fragrance with a blast of green up top. Subsequent wearings (four, in total) have not altered but only confirmed that impression. The fruit scent here is similar to that of standing at the kitchen sink and peeling apples and pears and the other components of a fruit salad before running the peels and cores and rinds, now turning slightly brown, through the garbage disposal. So that's my take on the "compost" note, I guess. It has a freshness which is nearly to the point of no longer being fresh, if that makes any sense.

If I try very, very hard to find subtlety and profundity in this fruity-floral fragrance, then perhaps I shall. But would I ever put that much effort into this sort of composition, were I not indoctrinated by the teachings of the cult of Ellena, according to which he is a genius and/or a saint? Honestly, I predict that the evaluations of this fragrance will be much, much higher than they would be if it were tested blind. Just a hunch...

Having now strolled through all of the gardens, I can confidently reaffirm that I appreciate this minimalist "haiku" or atmospheric perfume concept more as a theory than in practice. I admire Ellena and love this house, and I applaud their recent victory against the forces of hegemony. Still, the members of the Jardin series, while perfectly fine for what they are, do not hold a candle to some of the resplendent Hermès masterpieces so dear to me.

In the end, my lukewarm reaction to the Jardin series says much more about me than about the perfumer or the house. When all is said and sniffed, I myself may simply be more of a big luscious complex perfumey (à la 24 Faubourg, Calèche, Elixir de Merveilles, Hermessence Ambre Narguilé, etc.) kind of gal. That's a fact about me, not about this series, house, or perfumer. There's plenty of room in this world for all of us, and there's certainly no reason for thinking that we should always agree! What a boring place the world would be if we did.

Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Salient notes (from various sources): grass, red apple, pear, rose, magnolia, rosemary, compost note (?)

L'Eau Chic by Parfums De Nicolai

2011-12-05T21:39:00.001-07:00

If you have a proclivity for minty aromas, you're in luck. The opening of L'Eau Chic is exceptionally good. A soft geranium rendition and minty lavender lead off for L'Eau Chic and do what top of the order hitters are so supposed to.

Parfum De Nicolai has the listed notes as : Pelargonium, Mint, Lavender, Orris, Red Pepper, Sandalwood and Musk.

Never loud, the lavender-mint tandem is like a fresh, cool breath. This duo, along with the geranium, last a good while for an opening accord. Once the orris contributes, the scent seems to take on a slight herbaceous quality instead of the expected violet. After 20 minutes, the fragrance is very comfortable and L'Eau Chic is now a slightly minty floral with herbal overtones.

The overall volume is on the low side, but the fragrance still has longevity as a close scent after a few hours. L'Eau Chic is ( to me ) an extremely understated masculine that can be worn by either sex. My disappointment lies in the fact that this never becomes woody enough in the base accord or drydown. I barely detect any sandal, but the musk does arrive in a very slow and steady fashion. It too is polite and I come to the conclusion that I like the top and mid accords much better than the base. It simply doesn't seem to follow through.

In spite of feeling this way, I still like L'Eau Chic and would wear it because I tend to periodically spritz ( via atomizers ) as the day progresses. The first two-thirds of the scent is worth reapplying every 2 hours. The drydown leaves me wanting, but I believe this would make a very good spring and summer fragrance.

Three-fourths of a thumbs up from Aromi for Parfums De Nicolai's L'Eau Chic.

Timbuktu by L'Artisan

2011-12-02T07:34:00.000-07:00

I keep revisiting Bertrand Duchaufour's creation because, for whatever reason, the presence of the fragrance seems to change each time I wear it. On any given wearing, it seems stronger than the time before it and the reverse is also true.

In spite of Timbuktu's chameleon-like strength, this is a very good scent. If it wasn't, I doubt I'd keep wearing it in order to understand it a bit better. It's extremely doubtful that the fragrance has an innate inconsistency with its strength and sillage, so the perception problem is surely on my end.

I have been fortunate enough to review a few excellent incense fragrances as of late. It seems Timbuktu will have to added to that list. The soft touch of L'Artisan's releases works magically with Timbuktu. That approach has caused me problems due to my skin type, but it's perfect for this one. Most of Bertrand's creations are transparent to me and Timbuktu is sheer as well. It succeeds however in being able to penetrate in spite of itself.

The image to the left is of some inhabitants of Timbuktu. I have no idea of knowing whether or not the fragrance captures the essence of the locale and its people. If, in fact it does, then these folks and their abode smell pretty damn good.

My wearings of Timbuktu convinced me that this scent is about incense. Soft, billowy incense at the core with some tastefully executed fruit and spice notes framing the smokiness. None of the accompanying notes are extroverted and take a team-player attitude.

There's subtle aromas of spicy resins while myrrh joins forces with the incense. Patchouli and vetiver bring their game to the table as well, but their additions are

realized only when Timbuktu starts drying down. They are soft renditions on my skin and others may get a more pronounced version of them. I kind of enjoy them more being passive. It allows that incense note to remain at the heart of the scent.

The previous L'Artisan I reviewed ( I believe ) was Navegar and I thought it was high time I came across a fragrance from this house that I not only liked, but worked on my skin. Timbuktu can surely be added to that shortlist and it has even better presence that Navegar.

If any readers are looking for a transparent incense fragrance that smells flat out terrific, you need to sample Timbuktu. This isn't only about incense, but you need to find that out for yourselves. Big thumbs up from Aromi for Bertrand's Mali masterpeice.

04 Petrana EDT by Odin

2011-12-01T22:39:00.000-07:00

I purchased this sample for 2 reasons. The notes were intriguing and violet leaf absolute is listed in the accord. No, I'm not a lover of violet. If anything, I have problems with note quite often. There have been a few fragrances that implemented it a particular way and I loved it. The rest of them however didn't work so well on me. By the rest of them I mean the majority.

Enter 04 Petrana by Odin. The opening is a dense rush of spicy green along with a fruit like quality. Nothing too sweet mind you, but definitely moist and palpable. It's a very nice opening accord and within just a few minutes, the violet makes its introduction. This is one of the more favorable violet notes I've encountered and I can't seem to stop sniffing it.

My sample has a minute amount of what looks like pinkish sediment. There is pink pepper listed and it is detectable on the skin. Lightly shaking the vial takes care of that, so I would assume that there is going to be some sediment in the bottles and they would need a turn or two.

LS has the notes for 04 Petrana listed as : Deep purple cassis, Pink pepper, Herbaceous coriander, Black iris, Violet leaf absolute, Garden heliotrope, Wild orris root, Vetiver and White musk.

The pepper is a nice touch and is good company for the spicier attributes of cassis. The green remains but at a more subdued level. The violet-like qualities start coming to the fore along with an herbal undercurrent. This accord is very good, full and does not exceed a polite volume. I'm liking this scent quite a bit in spite of it being in a category I normally don't gravitate to.

The execution of the first 2 sequences of Petrana are commendable. They also have excellent longevity until they finally begin to fade away leaving an earthy musk in its wake. On me, the vetiver and musk are very low key and succeed in not only embellishing the drydown, but also perpetuating the heart accord for a lengthier period of time.

04 Petrana by Odin is a well done "shared" fragrance featuring violet with support from fruit, green, spicy notes and very light wood tones. You already know this one gets the thumbs up.

Van Cleef & Arpels: Purveyors of Fine Perfumes ... and Implements of Self-defense!

2011-12-01T21:33:00.032-07:00

ORIENS (2010)
This is a big sillage sweet patchouli perfume. I'd say that the single word which best describes the composition of Oriens is: voluptuous. A little goes a long way, and my distinct impression is that this perfume (edp) is much louder than the wearer may appreciate. When I don this elixir to bed, I find myself floating away on a big billowy cloud of sweet and chewy patchouli leaves and end up having—perhaps not coincidentally—truly fantastical dreams! Fortunately, unlike many lesser perfumes of this genre, Oriens does not decompose and degrade into something repulsive and vile which requires soap-and-water removal before the night is through.

This sort of composition, ushered in by Angel, and aesthetically similar to Tom Ford Black Orchid Voile de Fleur and Bond no. 9 Nuits de Noho, to name but two examples familiar to me, may be the twenty-first century analogue to some of the larger volume "comfort scents" of the past century, including Lancôme Trésor, Givenchy Amarige, and Chôpard Cashmir. The current sweet patchouli fad (of which Oriens is one instantiation) may eventually pass, at which point people looking back will perhaps chuckle as they recall these currently popular compositions, but for now they serve very much the same purpose as those earlier sweet perfumes did once upon a time, it seems to me.

Oriens creates a blanket-like layer all around the body. I cannot really imagine wearing this perfume in public, but at home it feels like a piece of self-indulgence, like a rich, sweet truffle—something which one would not eat every day but is a nice treat now and then. My 100ml edp will definitely never need to be replaced—not because I don't like it, but because it is incredibly strong and appropriate only to private settings.

Oriens is basically the antithesis of the office-ready, inoffensive fruity-floral frag, which I refer to affectionately as ORIFFF (while hoping that it is not an acronym also used by the Pentagon). Not that Oriens is offensive, mind you. No, not at all. But it really does invade everyone's space, so people who are used to their co-workers wearing perfumes which smell like hair conditioner are bound to take note. Oriens draws attention to the wearer in what could be an unwelcome way, is all that I'm trying to say.

The Oriens bottle is a case study in excess. First off, this one—to my amazement—has roundly defeated the Sarah Jessica Parker Covet bottle in the "best suited as an implement of self-defense" category.

Here we can see Sarah Jessica Parker opening a demonstration on the dual-use function of the bottle in which her new perfume, Covet, is housed and, specifically, on how to wield the bottle as a blunt instrument in self-defense:

The Oriens bottle is shaped like a palm-sized crystal ball, and actually has the same magnifying and perhaps even prophesy-conferring capacity. But the important point here is that this thick glass object is seriously dense, packing big-time heft, and I'd venture to guess that it weighs at least a pound. While the Covet bottle could be use to fend off a nocturnal intruder by knocking him out, the Oriens bottle might actually crush his skull!

I really find this bottle very attractive except for the silver-painted plastic leaves appended to the otherwise beautiful cap atop the crystal ball. Someone should have said "Stop!" because the leaves are simply over the top, like a bad hat with not only flowers but stuffed birds attached. The bottle designer appears to have drawn inspiration from models such as these:

Or perhaps one of these?

I wish that I could remove the kitschy leaves from the Oriens cap, because they really degrade the overall presentation. The mini happily omits the leaves, and gives an idea of how nice the full-sized 100ml perfume bottle might have looked:

Perhaps I'll hide the cap in a drawer, since the bottle itself needs to rest on my bedside table—just in case.

Perfumer: Bernard Ellena
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com):mandarin orange, black currant, raspberry, jasmine, patchouli, and praline

FEERIE edp (2008)
Who among us can forget Violet Beauregarde, the chubby American girl in the twentieth-century film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? (I never saw the twenty-first-century re-make, so shocked was I that anyone should have the audacity to try to improve on an already superlative film! In my experience, such efforts invariably fail...)

Whenever Violet was not in the process of eating something, she satisfied her oral fixation by chomping loudly on gum, not at all unlike a cow with its cud. She acquired a winning ticket in the Willy Wonka contest and so was admitted to the chocolate factory along with Charlie, the nemesis of all of the other contestants. Violet was accompanied to the factory by her loud, aggressive father, Sam Beauregarde, who was apparently either a politician or (vel) a used car salesman. Charlie, in this nouveau-Dickensian little tale, just happened to be situated at the extreme tip of the other side of the poverty line, far away from all of the other winners, and it was nothing short of miraculous that he happened by chance upon one of the admission tickets to the factory.

In the end, karma dictated that all of the naughty and/or vicious little children should be punished, including Violet, whose tragic Fall was occasioned by her brazen disobedience of a direct order not to chew a piece of experimental gum. Violet blew up like a gigantic blueberry, not only for her aesthetic crime of chomping constantly on gum, but also for her cut-throat competitiveness, which really did her in, in precisely the manner in which one might expect karma to work: like a knife (or a bolt, see below...) in the back.

Violet came dangerously close to exploding before being rolled down the hall to the juicing room by the oompa loompas for triage. Although Violet was spared the death penalty, she was summarily stripped of the right to romp about the grounds of the chocolate factory as a direct result of this self-induced medical emergency.

…

Perhaps you, dear reader, did not remember Violet Beauregarde, but I am fairly confident that the makers of Van Cleef & Arpels Féerie did, for it is abundantly clear that she provided the deep inspiration for this creation. From the über-cloying black currant syrup sprinkled with violet leaves to the trucker tire-flap icon reproduced in miniature statuette form and applied to the ice-pick-like cap, Féerie embodies the essence of Violet Beauregarde aesthetic.

I can state without hyperbole that this is the sweetest ostensibly serious perfume I've ever sniffed. Although I've been known to bitch and moan about dilution, this composition has basically the opposite problem, being so thick and glucose-rich that it could easily be mistaken for one of those fruit syrups which come in bulbous bottles with sliding pour mechanisms—the ones arrayed in a “lazy Susan” contraption in booth tables at fine eateries such as the International House of Pancakes (“IHOP”, to those in the know), no doubt frequented by the Beauregarde family.

Rather than a fruity floral, I'd say that Féerie is a true fruity-fruity perfume, because the syrupy black currant is so dominant and so persistent and so thick and so, well, black curranty, that it is precisely like Violet Beauregarde in its extreme egotism, excluding all else as it screams out: “Me! Me! Me! ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Although Féerie might mix well with a rose soliflore, as a stand-alone perfume, it pretty much deserves the karmic fate eventually suffered by Violet Beauregarde, fittingly enough. Even the bottle is bright blueberry blue, and although the edges are beautifully faceted, from a distance the object evokes in this viewer's mind memories of one and one thing alone: Violet Beauregarde as her girth continues to expand to its ultimate bursting point while her face turns progressively more blue.

Now for the intricate embellishments, the carefully thought-out "finishing touches" upon the bottle in which this fruit syrup is found. Once again, as with Oriens, Van Cleef & Arpels has come up with a beautiful bottle totally degraded by its over-the-top cap! I'm beginning to suspect, actually, that those working in the art department of this house have a secret wager going on: Who can get away with the kitschiest cap on a perfume successfully launched before being served their walking papers?

To my amazement, Féerie actually manages to defeat (and that is no mean feat, by any means!) Oriens, indisputably winning the top honors in the “most ridiculous cap ever” category! How in the world did the artist get away with this? Every American inhabiting the broad underbelly of this land—including the members of the Beauregarde family—knows the naked lady on the tire flaps of semi-trucks: this image is virtually ubiquitous to anyone who drives cross country on freeways. There she sits amidst only her curves, beckoning YOU, her leg suggestively bent, a bust thrust directed your way.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, you must be a city dweller—or else a for'ner. The next time that you embark on a road trip in this not-so-fair land, I exhort you to take a few moments, pull into a truck stop, and examine the tire flaps on the semis parked there.

Yes, *that very image*, the Platonic Form of the Curvy Naked Lady Looking to Sleep with You has been fashioned into a tiny silver three-dimensional facsimile which has been nailed (literally—there's a visible bolt in her back!)—as to a crucifix—to the ice pick atop the Féerie bottle! An ice pick is perfect, by the way, for pricking swollen blueberries:

Come to think of it: wouldn't Sharon Stone have looked even more sizzling if the handle of her ice pick had been a beautiful faceted blue bottle of perfume?

Amazing! Truly an accomplishment of sorts. I stand humbled before the person who pulled this job off. Bravo, Joel Desgrippes!!!!

Perfumer: Antoine Maisondieu
Bottle designer: Joel Desgrippes
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): violet, green notes, floral notes, Italian mandarin, →black currant←, Bulgarian rose, Egyptian jasmine, iris from Florence, precious woods, and Haitian vetiver

FEERIE edt (2009)
Well, my best guess is that Van Cleef & Arpels may have had to contend with litigation regarding cases of accidental gouging—or intentional evisceration—caused by the original Féerie cap, for now the ice pick-cum-crucifix has been sawed down quite a lot. In addition, the edt launch is significantly less syrupy, leading me to suspect that someone somewhere may very well have sued for the edp's inducement of a diabetic coma.

Or perhaps the two were ingeniously linked in a single case: an overzealous defender of her home went a bit too far, transcending the limits of what can reasonably regarded as legitimate self-defense. In a state of rage induced by the penetration of her sacred boudoir by an unexpected and uninvited visitor, she took up her Féerie edp bottle with exceptional exuberance, multiply impaling him until he finally lay limp in a pool of his own blood. But then, the would-have-been-damsel-in-distress-left-to-her-own-devices (and perfume collection) in protecting herself had the good sense to follow her attorney's clever counsel to invoke the “elevated blood sugar defense” at her trial, leaving Van Cleef & Arpels fully culpable all over again.

Like reformulations in general, Féerie edt is a new composition in which everything has been toned down (above all, the black currant, but also the tall spire of the ice pick, which has entirely disappeared from the cap...) no doubt in an effort to address the more, let us say, “problematic” aspects of the original launch.

Although the final perfume product is definitely more wearable (which is to say, actually wearable) the overall integrity of this project as a work of art has suffered in the process, it seems to me. To say nothing of its diminished efficacy as an implement of self-defense!

Perfumer: Olivier Pescheux
Salient notes (from www.fragrantica.com): violet, rose absolute, jasmine, musk, sandalwood, and benzoin

O-Piu by i Profumi di Firenze

2011-12-01T15:37:00.000-07:00

Here's a changeling from i Profumi di Firenze. I say that only because I get 3 distinct accords during its transitions. The first one lasts only moments on my skin, but it's an interesting one.

The initial application results in a blast of citrus courtesy of Lemon, Bergamot and a bitter orange. This citric accord has a slightly different feel from others I've worn with the same triumvirate. Then again, this house has a different style than most others. Regardless, the topnotes are very nice and enjoyable, but it doesn't possess the longevity I would have liked. Then again, they are topnotes.........

Within minutes, lavender, geranium and carnation glide into picture. This gives O-Piu a retro vibe reminiscent to numerous classic masculines. I wouldn't say it caused a deja vu moment, but hobbyists have all smelled this accord before. It's familiar and therefore a bit comforting, albeit at the expense of blazing some new paths.

After 10 minutes or a little longer, the lavender turns a tad soapy. There's evidence of some spice here as well. It's at this junction that O-Piu smells very similar to vintage Cassini Reporter. I also get the feeling that this would not be so persuasive as a feminine wear. It's not overtly macho, but it's too similar to the older classics. This overall aroma is closely associated with men. ( Well......at least for me it is).

The base is part wood, part earthiness and part oriental. The vanilla rendition is extremely subtle. It's in there, but the volume turned up a notch would have been terrific. There's patchouli, a listed oak ( which I'm hard pressed to discover ) and some vetiver. All in all a good, solid accord and once again an accord that has been done all too often.

It may sound like O-Piu is boring me, but it isn't. I need to word this review as such so you know that, for all intents and purposes, O-Piu is a rehash of other woody orientals and mainstream in that regard. It's good with a very nice opening and definitely worth a sample wear if this type of frag floats your boat.

I recommend a sample wear of O-Piu as opposed to a blind purchase. Sillage is average as is the longevity ( approximately 4 hours ). Still, it's good enough to give a thumbs up.

Oliban by Keiko Mecheri

2011-12-01T08:56:00.000-07:00

Understated elegance is how I can describe Oliban by Keiko Mecheri. She has a way of speaking through her perfumes in a soft voice, but it's never difficult to hear her.

Oliban is extremely smooth like everything else I've tried from this house. The frankincense note isn't groundbreaking nor are the other players. It's the way they are implemented and I'm starting to believe that this house is far removed from releasing anything with rough edges.

I'm not complaining. If anything, I love the suppleness and Oliban is just that. It's completely appropriate for either gender and can be a poster child for "shared". There's not a slew of players in this fragrance. On the Mecheri site, it's listed under Les Orientales with notes of : Incense Olibanum, Atlas Cedarwood, Palisander, Blonde Tobacco and Tonka Beans.

Somewhere in the wearings, I think I'm smelling hints of rose with spice. It isn't a steady aroma and it could be me simply smelling something else mimicking the note. It wouldn't be the first time I detected something that isn't in the accords. The gist of Oliban is a ripple-less rendition of woody incense. Both the wood and frankincense are enjoyable to say the least. The tobacco note is present and dissimilar to some of the more obvious renditions of the note in designer masculines that I own and enjoy. It's more like a pastel stroke in Oliban than a statement.

The sillage is on the polite side but I get good longevity from the wearings. The frankincense isn't the cathedral-like rendition of some. I can't call it meditative either. Relaxing and peaceful seems a better fit. Oliban is very nice indeed and worth checking out. For many years, I played lead guitar and my grail "sound" was a Marshall amp attenuated. All this means is that you achieve a "power soak" sound at moderate volume. It's big and fat and healthy on the eardrums.

Oliban. Attenuated. Big, fat and juicy. A power soaked thumbs up from Aromi for Mecheri's Oliban.

Calamity J by Juliette Has a Gun

2011-11-30T22:26:00.000-07:00

Hhhhmmmmm.......This begins extremely good and I have a difficult time believing the real Calamity Jane ( aka Marthy Jane Canary ) ever smelled this nice. From the images I googled of her, quite possibly vintage Parfum d' Habit or Kouros would be more appropriate. Okay.......I'm being an ass, but this really does have a very enjoyable opening accord.

LS has Calamity J listed as unisex and advertised as a masculine fragrance dedicated to women. I find it leans more feminine than anything, but the question is would I wear it? Let's see...........

The initial impression of the scent is a sheer, woody patchouli note. This opening

is my favorite part of the wearings. Once that subsides, a rising iris and amber duo inherit Calmity J like a hole filling slowly with water. The emphasis is on the iris and it soon turns powdery. The amber is still present and accounted for, but plays second fiddle.

The vanilla note doesn't sit idly by for any length of time. Just when I'm grooving on the iris-amber, it's inserting itself into the composition. It goes well with the iris-amber and this is where it truly veers off the masculine path into androgynous territory. I have to say here that I never thought this was very ( conventionally ) masculine to begin with. The opening volley was very diplomatic where gender is concerned, but after that it's up to the wearer to decide whether or not it suits them.

There's a listed musk in the base accord that does evolve rather slowly. It's a very quiet rendition and I do catch whiffs of it after 45 minutes or so. The only drawback I find with Calamity J is that it's very soft spoken for an EDP. The sillage is average at best and the longevity isn't the greatest. A potential 3 hour scent life with 2.5 of it being relegated as a "close" fragrance.

Now, would I wear it? Yes, I would. It's a nice fragrance and while it leans a bit feminine for my usual taste, I would most definitely give it full wearings if I had a bottle. Would I purchase a bottle? No, not a full bottle, but an adequate decant would certainly be acceptable.

So far, I have been pleased with the few samples from Juliette Has a Gun. I recommend a sample wear of Calamity J to see if it works for you. Good is good however and I have no reservations about giving Calamity J a thumbs up.

Nico Uytterhaegen...when darkness comes from Belgium

2011-11-30T11:39:00.011-07:00

Here's another recent discovery. Nico Uytterhaegen is a mysterious Belgian designer specializing in avanguardist leather goods and jewelery.

He recently introduced, on the market, a new line of fragrances called NONONSENSE. The line strikes me as incredibly inscrutable and obscure with handcrafted bottles produced in extremely limited quantities and wrapped in a black leather wallet. They're available as 50ml in EDT strength. Here are descriptions and pictures directly from the brand. I report them exactly how they wrote them...

NONONSENSE 1
A fragrance with a very strong nature. This eau de toilette represents the perfect combination of 100% pure essential oils such as eucalyptus, laurel, geranium, ylang-ylang, patchouli and vetiver. The scent is as fresh and vivacious as vbrant and exotic.

NONONSENSE 2
On a first contact this eau de toilette takes you through woods, spices and rosewood directly followed by vetiver, benzoë, laurel and rosemary. The top note evolves from fresh to intense ending, lately, with a light exotic groundnut note.

NONONSENSE 3
A heavy blend of bergamot and citrus creating a spicy eau de parfum evolving into the sensual and intense aroma of Europ. This elixir stimulates the senses. It's a breath of mystery, deep as a black absorbing light. The finished product is harmonized by vetiver, patchouli and ylang-ylang accent.

NONONSENSE 4
An irresistible fragrance which emits a subtle vibe of sensuality and mystery. On first contact, the scent is vivacious, seductive. A sparkling note of citrus combined with laurus and lavendula. It evolves towards a sensual eau de parfum based on the intense aroma of Europ and apple...The finished product is harmonized by vetiver, patchouli and ylang-ylang accent.

NONONSENSE 5
An irresistible fragrance which emits the softness and freshness of flowers. It evolves into a sensual eau de toilette based on amber and musk. The product is harmonized with a subtle oriental scent and modest touch of benzoë on the background.

And here are my takes...

So far I've tried 4 out of 5 as number 3 was temporarely unavailable.

No.1 is almost a geranium soliflore which is strongly aromatic and persistent. Sort of a bolder L'Anonyme with a remarkable rooty vetiver presence. Extremely stark and masculine.

No.2 is a weird but wearable concoction of synthetics and naturals. A spicy/woody mixture with resinous undertones and some "undetectable notes" that give a bizarre fresh/exotic/disinfectant vibe (something that strikes halfway between heliotrope and a soft synthetic flower). It could easily go with the most successful compositions in the Comme Des Garcons Synthetic Series. I believe it's marked as feminine but IMO it's perfectly unisex.

No.3 was temporarely unavailable.

No.4 is IMO the less interesting of the lot. A fruity/fresh concoction with a minty/flowery presence. Delicate, slightly sweet. Feminine.

No.5 is, together with no.2, my favorite. Opens with a compelling mash-up between a nu-gere a-la Sartorial/Invasion Barbare and clean synthetic notes resembling Comme Des Garcons SKAI/Dry Clean. It evolves into a subtle and slight animalic musky/ambery base. Unisex.

Overall I'd recommend this line to anyone who's into avanguardist and conceptual compositions a-là Comme Des Garcons, Etat Libre D'Orange, Six Scents and the likes. Nico Uytterhaegen fragrances are definitely not so easy to find but if you're interested you can always contact him at www.nicouytterhaegen.be/

Tokyo Milk, the Dark Collection, Part 1 of 2

2011-11-29T18:18:00.015-07:00

I find it very difficult to believe that excellent perfumes could also be very inexpensive. Yes, I know of quirky examples here and there, but in general, I'm more apt to believe that an inexpensive perfume is also cheap, not only in the monetary sense, but also in its composition and overall integrity. I suspect that the ingredients cost little, and furthermore that little effort was put into its creation. All of this leads me to approach houses which ask only modest sums for their wares with some caution and skepticism—and naturally low expectations. At the same time, I expect a very expensive perfume to be really very special and find myself disappointed when it is not. If what I perceive to be a cheap-quality perfume carries a high price, I feel on some level that there is a form of swindle taking place, that the price was simply another part of the hype used to market the perfume.

I am not sure whether any of this affects my evaluations or not. Am I so relieved that I overreact and pour out enthusiasm for less expensive perfumes when it is not really warranted? I have no problem identifying bad perfumes poorly made, particularly revolting chemical soups which I would not wear even if someone paid me to because it would simply be too traumatic for me to do. Still, I sometimes wonder whether I am less critical of inexpensive lines than more expensive lines, feeling pleased by the simple satisfaction of the rather modest criterion of being wearable at all. At the other end of the spectrum, am I perhaps also overly critical of quite decent perfumes because they cost so much?

Sometimes I think that it would be nice to be able to evaluate perfumes without knowing anything whatsoever about them—beyond how they smell and wear on my skin—paying no heed whatsoever to what they might cost. Perhaps I could avoid all of the possibly untoward effects upon my judgment of my antecedent expectations if I were to test every perfume blind, with no knowledge of its provenance or price. However, that would require that I hire a personal assistant to tend specifically and only over my sample queue, which is unlikely to happen anytime soon.

Such concerns may arise for many perfumistas who approach low-priced lines, I believe, first and foremost because we all seem to want on some level truly to believe in meritocracy, among other closely related principles of folk wisdom such as You get what you pay for. While sometimes you really do get what you pay for, at other times you get a lot less, and anyone who has been profoundly disappointed by a high-priced niche line knows what I'm talking about. On the other hand, sometimes we get a lot more than we expect, and that's what I have found in general with the creations of Margot Elena, founder of the house of Tokyo Milk, which recently launched a new series of perfumes, Tokyo Milk Dark, each 2oz bottle of which costs a whopping $36 MSRP. In keeping with the simple, streamlined aesthetic of this perfumer, each of these compositions combines a rather eccentric set of notes in a novel way. Here is what I found:

CRUSHED is the greenest jasmine perfume I've ever encountered. I actually like it very much. I've sniffed many jasmine soliflores, which usually differ primarily in how indolic they are. Some have a bit more of this or that base, and some are combined with sweet components. Here, in contrast, the jasmine is interspersed with a hefty pile of grass clippings.

This perfume is very natural smelling and not at all indolic to my nose. Clean and fresh, Crushed would appeal to those who want something a bit more exciting than a soliflore but not necessarily something sweet. Jasmine lovers should check this out as it offers a new take on a flower that's been done about a million times in just about every possible way. Also a good choice for people who like floral-green perfumes in general. Very big jasmine, but also very green.

Salient notes (from the bottle): earth, moss, crushed herbs, wild grass, jasmine

LA VIE LA MORT is primarily a tuberose perfume, with a dusting of cardamom and a detectable dose of jasmine. I do not myself smell anything animalic or indolic in this composition, nor anything vegetal à la Frédéric Malle Carnal Flower, but I do like what I smell. Although this tuberose is very feminine, it's quite a bit less flamboyant than the ultimate diva tuberose perfume, Robert Piguet Fracas. On the other hand, I also find it more interesting than By Killian Beyond Love. Still, it is feminine, so guys should definitely try before they buy.

To my nose, La Vie La Mort is a calmer, gentler tuberose perfume—neither very green, nor very buttery—with just enough cardamom to mark it off as distinct, imparting as that spice does a very slightly oriental demeanor and ever-so-lightly powdery texture. I am not at all sure that I detect any hibiscus, but perhaps it is blending seamlessly with the other components to produce what is indeed a pleasing perfume.

If you are big on tuberose, you should definitely give this remarkably low-priced, natural-smelling creation a sniff. I like it a lot.

Salient notes (from the bottle): white tuberose, cardamom, hibiscus leaf, jasmine

BITTERSWEET
Another unique offering in this line-up, Bittersweet really took me by surprise upon initial spritz. Yes, there is a cake mix quality, as other reviewers have noted, but what is fascinating to me is that the sugar is missing. So, to my nose, Bittersweet is a sort of "cocoa meets L'Artisan Parfumeur Bois Farine" perfume. It took me some time to process this one, but after a few wearings, I appear to be developing an addiction. Yum!

In addition to wearing well as a stand-alone perfume, I think that Bittersweet would make an excellent layering scent. There is no vanilla in this composition, so perhaps this pleasingly bitter cocoa-flour could be used to moderate some of the over-the-top sweetness of the vast range of vanilla-patchouli frags now in frightening ubiquity.

Bittersweet is a must-sniff for gourmand perfume lovers, and also for those who love cocoa but can't take all of the vanilla sugar which so often masks (and sometimes mars) this worthy note.

Salient notes (from the bottle): cake flour, dark cacao bean, osmanthus, bronzed musk

EXCESS may be my favorite creation from the Tokyo Milk Dark collection, though it's becoming more and more difficult to say! In this case, a big blast of labdanum amber mixes with patchouli, a touch of wood, and an even lighter touch of blood orange to produce a super-smooth and sensual cold-weather-only perfume. There are zillions of amber perfumes and quite a few patchouli-amber perfumes on the market, so the competition is stiff in this realm, particularly among niche houses.

With so many high-quality amber choices out there, it's a real mark of distinction to be something that I actually premeditatively look for occasions to wear, and Excess has swiftly become the first amber I reach for, despite being the last to join my collection. This one is definitely less spicy than some, but somehow I am drawn to its viscous golden gleam. Excess is also not sweet, which to me is a plus and would make this a sure hit among some gents as well.

Is my current infatuation with Excess only a momentary crush? Will this perfume be forgotten and lost in the back of my armoire in the not-too-distant future? I think not. This feels like the real thing: a top-notch amber-patchouli perfume!

Salient notes (from the bottle): amber resin, oak bark, blood orange, patchouli

ARSENIC
With a name like Arsenic, a perfume obviously instills certain expectations. Will it be intense—or even deadly? In the case of the new Tokyo Dark perfume, ARSENIC does mean intense, but definitely not deadly. This creation offers a rather eccentric combination of notes, including both absinthe and fennel, but also grass and salt, which does seem to give the composition an edge. It also makes my neck sting a bit.

As far as the quality of this creation is concerned, I have to say that, although I was a bit taken aback by the masculine aromatic demeanor, I'm finding that it grows on me with each wear. I'd say that this one is probably an acquired taste, but worth trying absolutely for guys (this is by far the most obviously masculine perfume of the line), and also for gals looking for something a little bit—or even alot—different. This is definitely unique. The Tokyo Milk website lists the perfumes of this series under the heading FEMME FATALE PERFUMES, but this one is clearly unisex, as is the amber-patchouli, Excess.

Salient notes (from the bottle): absinthe, vanilla salt, cut greens, crushed fennel

EVERYTHING & NOTHING
This particular entry in the Tokyo Milk Dark series really toes the line between personal and home fragrance and ultimately teeters over to the other side. I am reminded by Everything & Nothing of holiday potpourri, to be more specific. Something about the combination of orange rind, tea leaves, and dried flowers just makes this scent a touch too familiar and "craft-ish" (not crafty) to me.

As a stand-alone perfume, Everything & Nothing doesn't really work that well on my skin or to my nose, but I suspect that it might be salvageable with some layering, perhaps even with this line's own cocoa-flour composition, Bittersweet. I'll give it a try...

Salient notes (from the bottle): sweet orange, pressed petals, desert moss, tea leaves

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are more perfumes in this series, but they've yet to arrive, so for now let me simply say a few words about the gorgeous bottles, which are opaque matte black with white illustrations and lettering. The caps have a titanium-like look, and add the perfect finish. My only small complaint would be that some of the illustrations are of my personal bêtes noires: insects! Fortunately, however, that's only one of the four sides, so if you're like me, you can simply turn the bottle around and put one of the other three sides on display!

Stay tuned for reviews of the final members of this collection, Bulletproof and Tainted Love...

In the meantime, I'll see if I can figure out the numerological significance of the numbers assigned to these perfumes:

10 = Everything & Nothing
17 = Arsenic
28 = Excess
32 = Crushed
83 = Bittersweet
90 = La Vie La Mort

???

Amir by Laura Tonatto

2011-11-28T22:12:00.000-07:00

When I first sampled Amir by Tonatto, I left it on for awhile and then washed it off by choice. I fully intended on getting back to it since I truly thought the old sniffer was "off" that night.

The second wearing days later produced the same aroma and results. If I didn't know better, what I'm smelling is a Jovan masculine from the late 1960's or early 1970's. I'm really disappointed with Amir. This has a cologne vibe throughout and periodically I get whiffs of Jovan's Sex Appeal.

Really? Truth be told, I like certain bargain fragrances, but I'm sure not looking for it in an EDP Niche fragrance. Amir comes off as a drugstore fragrance. Like most of you, when I sample parfums, I'm anticipating creativity, maybe a little daring and certainly much more than what I'm getting here.

What's the most disappointing is the fact that Amir doesn't smell quite as good as some of the vintage Jovans. I'm not try to blast Laura Tonatto because I respect her work and enjoy some of her other releases. This, however smells like a budget scent and I cannot get past that while wearing Amir. For approximately $1 per ml., I need more.

Lusciouscargo has the notes listed as : Myrrh, Petitgrain, Lime wood, Orange essence, Incense, Amber, Musk, Woods and Spices.

I recommend a definite try-b-4-u-buy on this one. It's no mystery that I won't be considering Amir for my wardrobe.

Bond No.9 Great Jones

2011-11-28T15:14:00.000-07:00

Great Jones by Bond No.9 is a big, badass retro scent. This is a nod to 1980's era Versace ( and possibly a handful of others ) with the volume and longevity amped up two-fold.

Great Jones opens with a very loud and sharp orange note. Being sharp doesn't make it unpleasant and in fact, it's really good. It's almost tangible due to its size and you can literally taste this in your mouth. I can see Fabio wearing this fragrance no problem. The orange opening is exaggerated and on the intense side. There aren't many other players in the mix other than wood and moss.

The orange is no doubt the alpha note here. Being as linear as this is, I don't find it boring or monotonous. It's not something I would reach for on a regular basis, but it would fit well in my wardrobe as a rotational spring-summer scent.

The cedar in Great Jones is positioned right behind the orange, while the moss is directly behind the wood. You can smell the evolution even though it's a simple one. Both wood and moss are there from the very beginning, but come to fruition slowly as the orange note loses its stranglehold.

The sillage and longevity are very good and I am amused that this house even made a fragrance that is a throwback. I like it. It really does remind me of something Versace would have released.

Thumbs up from Aromi for the radioactive orange woody called Great Jones by Bond No.9

Muscs Koublai Khan by Serge Lutens

2011-11-27T20:46:00.000-07:00

Okay......let's peruse through some of the remarks on this particular scent. I've been reading them for years and have put off smelling this because of them. I'm not one who runs to smell something described as rigor mortis of the taint.

This is deliciously naughty. Someone who smelled it on a tissue said it smelled like poo. Maybe just a hint but mixed in with so many other things, it doesn't matter.

If ever there were a scent that smelled like Bigfoot's penis, this would be IT.

OK....Tried it once, read the reviews, decided to go back in all fairness and try it again before giving everybody a bad day...so, don't say I didn't try...I love sex just as much, or probably more, than the next guy...I mean that really dirty sex, piggy sex, get down and withit sex...in August-no-airconditioning-and- about-four-hours-into-a-marathon-stay-at-home-afternoon-and-on-the-third-go-around kind of sex, sex...so when I say something is skanky, nasty, nothin I would touch at grandma's house when she was down and needed the laundry done after it hadnot been touched in a week without gloves and a n oxygen mask with portable tank...this fluid needs a haz-mat sticker on it...will someone call the CDC about having that done...People, please, you cannot like that smell on your body...I had coworkers asking me to go home and take a shower, and wink wink nodnod from all the guys in the office who assumed I had had no sleep since the day before....until they got close enough...then they just sort of snorted, sneered and walked off...I did make a new freind though...anyone know what a warthog eats...I can't get him to leave,.. cg.

I have to say, this one on me is rank stank. It smells like wet groundhog. Not that I know what that smells like but, I can imagine.

Smells like my cab driver last night and a little like my balls after a day of partying

These quotes are taken from the LS review area that lies underneath each listed fragrance. I finally have worn Muscs Koublai Khan and I must have just sampled a completely different formula than what's been described........or..........these people sending in their reviews need to enroll in a fragrance class.

I get nothing of the sort wearing this scent. I can't even state that the musk is a decisively animalic rendition. If anything, MKK is on the resinous side. It employs Labdanum rockrose, Grey amber and Ambrette seeds. The overall feel of this Lutens is sensual and bordering on sexy. To say it smells like the aftermath of sexcapades committed in a humid, airless room that lasted for hours is absurd. I'd love to know who this guy is banging hips with because anyone who smells this good after a throttling like that is someone I'd like to meet. I'd also love to smell her BEFORE the event took place.

Granted, Lutens is a house ( for me especially ) that makes some daringly different fragrances and there's no doubt that creating outside the box must be a mantra of sorts. I keep plugging away in increments, sampling the releases, in spite of not caring for most of them. So far, I have found just a few that are extremely good and work well on me. I never considered Muscs Koublai Khan would fall into this category, but alas, I have worn it and have to say that this is a damn good scent.

The musk in MKK is coming from the combination of vegetal musk, costus and ambrette seeds. I don't find it animalic, feral or anything of that nature. I find it sensual if anything and nothing about it is off-putting. Simply put, Muscs Koublai Khan is a sexual rendition of musky amber on my skin.

There's a few other players in MKK ( vanilla, patchouli and morrocan rose ), but they aren't the stars. This is about resinous musk and it's about time you sampled it. The horror stories are just that.........stories.

Thumbs up from Aromi for The Serge and his sexy ass musk.

Bond no 9 Coney Island

2011-11-26T19:09:00.005-07:00

CONEY ISLAND is such a quirky, experiential creation that it verily cries out for hermeneutical exegesis. Caveat lector...

The acidic saline citrus opening evokes memories of one thing and one thing alone: the salty rim of a large margarita glass. The frosty blended green slush inside is strong and invigorating and, like an unexpected slap across the face, quickly induces a marked change in view to:

a trip to a white-sandy, wind-whipped beach, where vanilla ice cream cones are dripping faster than children can lick them. The waffle-cookie shells are slightly sweet and crunchy, shimmering in the sun, the outer coating of chocolate dark and sumptuous, softening slowly in the heat. Gleaming golden caramel swirls throughout the bright white vanilla cream, yet somehow the ocean nearby keeps it all still salty, with iridescent frothy waves splashing up on the eater as she prepares to take each bite, light mists of seawater spraying into her mouth.

Later, exhausted by the day's fun, it's time to sit and watch the setting sun, as darkness threatens quietly to descend, when

The volume of noise slowly diminishes as the groups begin to disperse, the individuals now wandering slowly through dimly lit labyrinthine paths back to their beds, where they will fall asleep, forgetting all of their worries and problems for a time. Lingering sweetness and light will fill their heads like a beatific vision, and they will dream only of salty caramels dusted with unsweetened Dutch-processed cocoa as they drift gently away to an unreachable realm where there are no Blackberries or cellphones, and no one is asking anyone to follow them on Twitter or counting their Friends. Only little Bo-peeps exist along with infinitely many miniscule sheep dotting the screen of the dreamer's shimmering green visual horizon like tiny white blossoms: bright stars illuminating the vast galaxy beyond...

But what, in the end, does it all mean? you may ask.

Your guess is as good as mine!

Perfumer: Michel Almaic
Salient notes (from www.bondno9.com): Margarita mix, melon guava, cinnamon, chocolate, caramel, musk, vanilla, cedarwood, sandalwood

(adapted from a review posted at www.fragrantica.com on June 25, 2010)

Luctor et Emergo by The People of the Labrinths

2011-11-26T18:49:00.000-07:00

For the first 5 minutes or possibly a little longer, I kept getting a putty smell that was soaked in Maraschino juice. I say putty since, as a youth, I was a plumber's apprentice for at least 5 years and we used putty for assorted tasks by the tubful. I will never forget that smell.

Now, I cannot claim that it ever leaves completely because on my skin, it does not. It does dissipate after the opening volley and isn't near as prominent. The same can be said for the Maraschino trait. It's a weird but likable aroma. I have come across a few other sample wearings over the years that had this putty note, so I don't want anyone to think that this is something unique or that something is amiss.

Lusciouscargo has the notes listed as : Fresh grasses, white flowers, incenses, vanilla, almond and cherry.

LS has the notes listed as : Precious woods, vanilla, fresh grasses, white florals and dozens they can't name.

As I read the short list of notes for Luctor et Emergo, I wonder if they didn't use opoponax and tolu balsam in this. The vanilla rendition, which becomes very apparent, has some incense qualities and some exotic spiciness with confectionary overtones. It's got a little teeth and I like it quite a bit. It's more sweet than foody, but it does hover near gourmand territory.

I get whiffs of soft florals that come and go, but mostly the initial 15 minutes affords me this. I tried multiple times to identify what they might be, but I came away no wiser. The accord is nice, albeit fleeting and I wish it stuck around longer. Once the drydown arrives, Luctor et Emergo has developed into a spicy, vanilla incense that's a bit resiny.

Luctor et Emergo lasts quite a long time on my skin and a little goes a long way. The sillage is also commendable, so be advised that this one is no wallflower. This is one of the more eclectic renditions of traditional you will come across. To be precise, the drydown is a good, conventional base while the opening and heart are off the beaten path a bit.

Do I like Luctor et Emergo? Yea, I do......putty and all with a cherry on top. Thumbs up from Aromi for The People of the Labrinths and their Luctor et Emergo.

Pentachord Auburn by Tauer

2011-11-26T14:42:00.000-07:00

I recently perused the accords of Tauer's Pentachord series and settled upon Auburn. This is one of the things I love about sampling. The worse case scenario is you have no love for something in a 1ml. vial.

Cinnamon, Citrus, Sandalwood, Amber and Tobacco.

Auburn is strangely good, yet I cannot generate any passion for it. You can smell it's well made and has depth to it. It wears "larger" than you'd expect a 5 note compilation could execute, but ...............

.................You guys get the idea. It simply isn't for me in spite of being a quality release. The listed notes are accounted for and on my skin, the amber plays the biggest role. It's semi sweet, a bit on the dry side and slightly resinous. These attributes ( I'm quite sure ) are influenced by the cinnamon who happens to be the next most obvious player. After only a few minutes of wearing Auburn, the woody aspects of sandal and amber are percolating underneath what I can only describe as cinnaresin. I have a suspicion that my particular sense of smell cannot appreciate the balance of this creation. Others may absolutely love the way Tauer has tuned this scent. I, for one, am not among them as "something" in Auburn seems just a bit "off" to my palette.

I wanted to like this very much. In spite of my lack of appreciation for Auburn, I'd be completely remiss if I didn't reiterate that it's a quality fragrance and should be sample worn; especially by those who are fans of either cinnamon or amber. My recommendation is a try-b-4-u-buy for Tauer's Pentachord Auburn.

Xerjoff 1861

2011-11-26T11:29:00.000-07:00

The Xerjoff boutique has the listed notes as : Tangerine, Bergamot, Rose, Lily of the Valley, Mint, Amber, Patchouli and Cedar.

Quality? Yes, in spades and each note can be clearly identified in remarkable fashion. I enjoy citric openings as much as the next person, but this is tantamount to the nuance differences in regular cable and B-ray high definition.

The citrus in the top accord lasts an extraordinary length of time compared to most. It smells extravagant even for a citric opening, but this scent never gets stuffy. After some time has lapsed, a soft and unassuming menthol slides in. Like numerous other enthusiasts, I can have a difficult time with mint depending upon the implementation. This rendition is extremely deft and ( on me ), it's literally hiding behind the oncoming Lily of the Valley. I should note that I get the LOTV first, with the mint right on its coattails. The result is an extremely good accord with longevity.

Slowly, the wearings revealed soft, dusty rose, subtle hints of patchouli and woody amber. The mint is still there, even in the drydown phase, set on perfect volume like the rest of the cast. Quality to me is the totality of a composition. I have no idea what each house uses in terms of ingredient expense and I personally could care less. It either smells like a quality creation or it does not. Totality is the result of thought, effort and tinkering. Quality doesn't seem likely to be rushed........and Xerjoff 1861 smells like someone took their sweet time in finally signing off on it.

Suffice it to say that this fragrance is Italian in feel like it's supposed to be and an excellent wear. If I had 3 thumbs, they'd pointing upward.

Diptyque Vetyverio

2011-11-26T07:34:00.002-07:00

Signatures are very personal. Your identity is wrapped in it and even when you deliberately change the look of your signature, there's always going to be identifiable aspects in it waiting to be discovered.

If I had sampled this blindfolded and then asked what house released this 5 seconds after applying it, I would have guessed correctly. Diptyque seems to have a strong house signature that connects each fragrance not only with texture, but its ingredient gene pool. It's more a good thing than a deterrent in my opinion. Guerlain isn't the only one who has succeeded in doing it for years.

For me, the vetiver note is a tricky one to like when it's the dominant theme in a release. It's nothing more than a personal quirk and I either like it or don't want to smell that rendition again. Diptyque's Vetyverio is one of the more superior versions I have smelled. It's clean, smooth and extremely unoffensive in every aspect. It possesses just enough of an earthy element to announce that it's vetiver and then allows the others to do their job. I like how Diptyque has tuned this.

LS has the notes listed as : Mandarin orange, Grapefruit, Lemon, Bergamot, Vetiver, Carrot seed, Apricot, Nutmeg, Clove, Ylang, Turkish rose, Geranium, Cedar and Musk.

Naturally, the initial blast of Vetyverio is citric, but the vetiver is immediately apparent. The listed spices add some heft for the vetiver note and seem to stay on the periphery of the accord. It's as if they are framing the vetiver. I like this effect and even better is the fact that they have no inclinations to become overtly obvious.

The floral notes also do nothing more than add buoyancy. Like the spices, they assist in keeping the vetiver front and center and smoothing out the accord. From the opening until the heart is established, Vetyverio succeeds in being a citric vetiver with a spicy bite. The texture is smooth and while calling it elegant may be a bit of a reach, I find it very close.

This accord remains through the life of the scent and only lowering its volume come drydown. Wood and musk slowly insert themselves into the transition and the transfer is seamless. The base is as compatible as the beginning and middle. The end result is that we have a very nice rendition of vetiver with Diptyque's usual sillage and longevity. My thumb can only go in one direction for Vetyverio.

Up,up and away from Aromi for Diptyque's Vetyverio.

Bois 1920 Sushi Imperiale

2011-11-25T21:36:00.000-07:00

Bois 1920 is yet another house that produces some fairly respectable releases. Normally I won't try any fragrance that has the word Sushi in it simply due to my dislike for the dish. It's a mental barrier, I know and naturally this fragrance wouldn't resemble it in aroma, but................

...........I ordered a sample anyway after looking at the accord. It looked like it may be a sleeper. LS has the notes listed as : Citrus, Pepper, Nutmeg, Cinnamon and Madagascan vanilla.

Sushi Imperiale is as uncomplicated as the listed accord. A linear, citric and spice scent that feels like a fragrance I'd wear over the holidays. Of course, the nutmeg and cinnamon are responsible for that association. I will say that the 3 spices are balanced rather judiciously and this makes Sushi Imperiale an easy wear. Each gets equal billing as they ride along with the citrus rendition. It also has substance while not becoming a loud fragrance.

Even the vanilla rendition has manners, but does evolve a slight, vanilla candle vibe 20 minutes in or so. In spite of that, I find this a nice wear that's unoffensive despite the spice notes. Sillage is very average with good longevity. I recommend a sample wear to those who ( like me ) wouldn't mind finding a fragrance that implements nutmeg and cinnamon with some discretion.

Is it a sleeper? No, I wouldn't go as far as to say that, but I will say it's nice. Thumbs up from Aromi for Bois 1920's Sushi Imperiale.

Cuir De Lancome

2011-11-25T19:11:00.000-07:00

Every now and then, I run into an underrated fragrance that is actually underrated. My thanks to Basenoter Cacio for sending me a sample of this as I have been wanting to try it for awhile now.

I've heard this was a good leather scent with a terrific price point. I have to concur after wearing this today. Cuir De Lancome is right up there with the likes of high end niche leathers in terms of quality and aroma. It surpasses them in bang for the buck.

With that said, Cuir De Lancome opens with a citric-saffron accord with a bit more emphasis on the saffron note. Within a few minutes, a slightly smoky leather rises up and becomes the front runner. As I'm enjoying this part of the opening, a tar note also presents itself, turning Cuir into a butch leather under the guise of femininity. There's simply no way this is for the female persuasion only.

The floral heart of jasmin, ylang and hawthorn have to struggle to be heard in this leathery haze. The contributions are mildly indolic and slightly animalic which propels Cuir ( albeit quietly ) into the masculine zone. I say that for the sake of men who are on the fence about this one. In truth, this can be easily worn by either gender.

On me, the listed patchouli is completely submerged or absorbed by the smoky leather. I don't care if I ever smell the patch in Cuir because it's fine just the way it is. The movement in this fragrance is minimal and when donning a leather frag, you should expect and want just that.........leather.

That's also what you get with Cuir. Nice sillage and very good longevity accompanied by a big thumbs up from Aromi. Nice job Lancome !