At first I thought, yet another Angel rip-off. Yes, it is, but without the complexity and multi-note development of that classic gourmand. This is a flavored coffee scent - caramel, vanilla to be exact. It's also the scent of candles one finds at Christmas in department stores.
Turin finds amber and rose here, which are not in the note tree. He is most reminded of a coffee shop, while Lucky Scent's blurb likens it to roasted marshmallows at a camp fire.
I am not impressed. It smells like those nasty candles, quite plainly, cheap. There is a vast audience for this type of vanilla scent, so it obviously sells well. I don't get the woods, coconut or licorice.
Strength and longetivity are gargantuan, as are most Lutens, so be prepared to smell like a candle until your wicks are burnt low.
An exotic semi-gourmand (honestly not a typical "Lutensesque oriental" in style), an honest almondy-buttery vanilla with faint bitter (burnt-sugary, woody, lightly spicy and earthy) undertones. I'm not usually fond of this kind of creamy creations which I tend to find good (in a sort of "edible" yummy comforting way) but kind of "flat" and somewhat unemotional. Un Bois Vanille is anyway reasonably temperamental and "special" with its typical bitter twist (bitter almond and black licorice). Bitterness is something special that cuts the (otherwise boring and flat) coconutty-soapy balminess. I don't see the "bois" side while woodiness is here, side by side with benzoinic/vanillic/fruity balminess. Evolution and structure are mediocre but I catch a nice dose of tropical exoticism, reminding several Comptoir Sud Pacifique's coconuty-almondy vanillas (Coco Extreme or Vanille Amande), a whiff of musky-lipstick "cosmetical in vibe" sensualism a la Narciso Rodriguez and light/earthy/fresh breeziness (this juice could be surely a pleasant solution for an exotic dreamy vacation in far equatorial lands with your beloved one). Dry down (still vaguely bitter/woody) is surely waxy and tonkinian.
A deep and strong vanilla fragrance layered with a smokey burning incense to keep it on the mature side instead of the teeneybopper side of sweet vanillas.
Not very strong projection or longevity, but you will enjoy sniffing this one in your own space.
An acquaintance was complaining the other day that she has got tired of ‘dark’ vanillas – the kinds with Edwardian beards, lolling about in musty libraries full of ancient leather-bound volumes, smoking fat cigars and downing pegs of rum. Too much for her, the poor vanilla gets lost. Un Bois Vanille, on the other hand, is the kind of vanilla she loves.
I can see why - it has the comfort of vanilla sugar (think baked goodies) and yet it is resolutely grown up. For around that rather innocent cookie vanilla are a slick of coconut grease, the sweat and salt of licorice and the feral invitation of beeswax, giving the whole thing a lived-in and experienced feel. To say nothing of the essential warmth of a good vanilla that makes it particularly suited to the chillier months. The coconut morphs so successfully with the vanilla here you’d think this was a particular variety of vanilla in its own right. There is a muted set of notes forming the backdrop, mainly gentle woods and tonka with spicy hints that accent the licorice.
A fantastic comfort scent, if rather less successful as a ‘going out’ kind of perfume.
Love this fragrance. I have read many reviews over a few years that this fragrance isn't complex enough. I actually love the simplicity.