Finally a leather that smells like leather. If you go to the modern shoe shine and leather repair shops at Grand Central you will smell Peau d'Espagne.
It is the combination of leather, show polish and whatever fragrance they use.
I get a strong "paan" note which to me implies presence of rose, clove, other spices and perhaps some musk.
Much much better than K10 or russian leather.
FB for sure
The Reviews before say it all.
Masculine because it has a strong note of Dry Smoked Bacon.
My Queen can wear Cuir Mauresque and I will nibble her ear.
I'll wear this and she can nibble mine.
15th July, 2016 (last edited: 22nd July, 2016)
What a wonderfully complicated and different fragrance! I tested this fragrance for a couple of weeks in the hopes of finding a leather fragrance that could be worn in the heat of the Texas summer, and, I found it in SMN Peau d'Espagne.
Many others have reviewed the top and middle notes of this fragrance very well, I'd like to add a little on the base. After several hours of wear, the described harsh and medicinal and floral leather gives way to a rather sweet base that reminds me of buckwheat honey and hay.
In my opinion, compared to Knize Ten, SMN Peau d'Espagne is a tighter fragrance, it has a bit less going on, but to me it seems to knit together very cohesively. For hot weather, tight and cohesive works very well. For a warm to hot weather leather, this works for me very nicely. I highly recommend it.
15th July, 2016 (last edited: 21st July, 2016)
Peau d’Espagne (Spanish Leather) is a brash, dark leather fragrance that drills home its point without losing the plot somewhere over amberland or vanillaville.
Unlike cuirs de Russie (Russian leathers), leather fragrances classified as peau d’espagne (Spanish leather) types do not rely primarily on birch tar for their smoky, leathery effect, but instead recreate it through the use of a complex locking system of various dry herbs, flowers (carnation), and dusty woods.
The Peau d’Espagne type of leather came about from the process of curing the leather for fine ladies’ gloves with a sweet-smelling mixture of flowers and botanical essences, which of course masked the terrible stench of uncured leather.
Peau d’Espagne is the oldest, and finest, surviving representative of this type of leather, and although it does contain a small amount of rectified birch tar, its total effect owes more to its complex floral construction than to birch tar. Although it plainly skews masculine, I think this could be phenomenally sexy on the right woman – a bad-ass perhaps, or if playing against type, a quiet, feminine girl who wants her aura to read as unexpectedly kinky.
The leather note is strong and dry, a piece of raw cowhide waiting to be tanned in a vat of dyes. But though it is dark, it is also fresh with an underbelly of green herbs, camphor, and even a touch of mint flooding the gloom with slivers of light.
The florals lend their effect rather than a distinct aroma of their own - the carnation note gives a flourish of clove-scented powder to the leather, and the violet leaf a sharp, green, almost metallic edge.
There is a touch of birch tar here, too, and although I wouldn’t really call this a phenolic fragrance, there is a distinct whiff of tar pits. But think sweet tar, like that in Patchouli 24 or the sweet, rubbery florals behind the tough saddle leather in Lonestar Memories.
As with a few other Santa Maria Novella fragrances, there is a distinctly antiseptic note floating through the heart here, almost like TCP or germolene. This adds a pleasantly medicinal touch, and replicates somewhat the balance achieved in something like Tubereuse Criminelle between the floral, creamy side and the harsh, wintergreen aspect. It is this antiseptic mouthwash note that brings together all the other elements – the leather, the herbs, the carnation, the tar.
A striking, if rather rough leather fragrance in a tradition of Peau d’Espagne that is no longer in fashion.
I haven't yet met another person that likes the smell of this, but god I love it! It's like mentholated smoked ham! Santa Maria Novella fragrances so reliably elicit perturbed "What ARE you wearing!" responses that it makes me laugh. People hate it but it smells wonderful. I like to think this is the Peau d'Espagne Molly Bloom remembers wearing in the last chapter of Ulysses. Wear it for yourself. "What IS THAT you are wearing!" like it's a personal affront. Mmmmmmm, soapy tarry fatty medicated meat strips. Glorious.