Oiro opens up with an intensely aldehydic floral accord that’s highly reminiscent of the early 20th classics from Guerlain . It’s thick, heavy, and heady, and immediately lets you know that it means business. The blend sweetens a bit as Oiro develops, and the aldehydes give way to indoles as voluptuous rose, jasmine, and tuberose take up the front line. The viscous and decidedly erotic floral accord at Oiro’s heart is a close cousin to Mona di Orio’s provocative Nuit Noire, but its indoles are less aggressively “dirty” than Nuit Noire’s and so less suggestive of fleshy decay. That’s not to say that this is a “clean” scent – not by any means! Oiro is as dense and weighty as Patou’s Joy or Caron’s Narcisse Noir, with nary a citrus or fruit note to add buoyancy. The drydown is powdery musk, thick vanilla/tonka and what smells like sandalwood, and endures for quite some time before it gently fades.
If the grand florals of the 1930s through the 1950s strike you as hopelessly old-fashioned “grandma perfumes” I doubt that you’ll enjoy Oiro. I can only imagine that Mona di Orio conceived Oiro as a tribute to the classic feminine florals and orientals of the last century, and I have to say it is very successful in mimicking their weight and tone. It seems to me a scent for formal occasions, to be worn by a mature and dignified woman in a satin and velvet gown. As a man I find it absolutely unwearable, and coming from someone who routinely wears the likes of Carnal Flower, that says a lot. Oiro is well made, and it refuses to bend to modern perfume trends. I suspect it may gain cult loyalty from certain connoisseurs, but I doubt it will be wildly popular, even by the limited standards of niche fragrances.
Powerful, deep, slap-in-the-head opening of jasmin, heliotrope and immortelle on aromatic cedar woods – rich, carnal and daring, a bit morbid and overhelming with a hint of mind-blowing decadent mess, but that is how "power" scents work. BayKAT's review below correctly recalls L'Heure Bleue - different components, but that's the kind of feel. I smell a sort of weird, balsamic-camphor base which somehow amplifies and surrounds this – making the texture almost resemble to the dense power of tuberose-based scents, to which this one in fact smells alike. Perfectly-balanced citrus notes (thank God) refresh the texture. As minutes pass it progressively becomes more and more mellow and sweet, settling down a quite natural powdery floral fragrance, still with a disturbing kind of cloying/rancid note with a weird resinous note floating over like a zombie crow, and an ambery/frankincense subtle base. I frankly can not like this completely, or better say, I am still unsure about when/how to wear this - bold, rich, complex, somptuous, viscious carnal flowers, still with nothing leathery/animalic to provide a darker counterpart: challenging for sure.
16th April, 2014 (last edited: 24th April, 2014)
Lots & lots of heliotrope -
L'heure de nuit is similar
This is an interesting scent that wears differently me every time, and thus, this is my third review.
This opens with a nice floral accord, ala l'heure bleue, and fans of that scent would surely. like this one. This maintains the melancholy florals throughout and is an interesting blend of 'sweet florals' and 'skanky basenotes'. (Think Lady Gaga doing a Disney Special)
One thing that i get with every wearing now is the vetiver/musk drydown. this only starts to 'stinky' on me after 10 hours of wear, so judge your time accordingly. my one complaint with this note in any perfume is that it leaves your clothes smelling 'stinky' upon next wear, and i don't like to wash my sweaters that often.
20th February, 2010 (last edited: 10th March, 2010)