It's like the bad boy at the back of class, you don't want to look round to see what he's doing but you can't help yourself. I hated it at my first sample. Now I can't live without it. I don't wear it often, but I do wear it alone. The last time I wore it to a party my boyfriend's best friend took one sniff and said he wanted to eat me. I don't blame him, I'm happy to sit in a corner and sniff my own wrists when I wear this. It's dirty and leathery and very animalaic on me. I grew up in the countryside and used to help with my uncle's dairy heard - I can really smell the bulls in V&T. A wanton beast. Not for everyone, and at a perfume party it smelt different on every person who tested it, but on me it smells of leather, warm hay and bull sweat. I quite simply can't get enough. Pure S.K.A.N.K.
NB: There is more than a little Bal A Versailles in the dry down here. Pure barnyard!
21st September, 2014 (last edited: 06th July, 2015)
Vierges & Toreros starts out as a very sharp, smoky leather, sparked with just a touch of bitter citrus. Sweet white flower notes emerge very slowly - even tentatively - from the background. The tuberose does not really present itself as a distinct note. It is blended with what might be jasmine or orange blossoms in a single, seamless accord that drifts mysteriously behind the leather.
The white floral notes never actually dominate the fragrance, because as soon as they grow conspicuous a very strong blend of dry woods takes firm hold of the base. The floral notes move in and out of focus while the woods, smoke, and leather take on a rustic, campfire sort of character. Very late in the drydown the woods sort themselves out into something very much like cedar, which in combination with the remaining leather reminds me of a cedar chest filled with boots and shoes.
It's an outstanding leather scent, but not as dramatic or original as I'd hoped for from the maker's description. Vierges & Toreros should appeal to those who enjoy Oud Cuir d'Arabie, Tabac Blond, and Lonestar Memories, but it doesn't displace any of them. Anybody looking for a "masculine" take on tuberose could just suck it in and risk the blatant green tuberose of Ropion's Carnal Flower from Frederic Malle.
As much as I love the concept of tuberose and leather, I've grown weary of Vierges & Toreros. Why? It's the drydown. The development ends on a scratchy synthetic cedar base note that's at once unpleasantly harsh and oppressively potent. So while I enjoy wearing Vierges & Toreros for the first hour or two, what follows is tedium, and then exasperation.
Vierges & Toreros starts off as a very peppery bright floral, with plenty of nutmeg and tuberose. It stays this way for about 15 minutes on my skin, then a very violent animalic-leather accord swallows the flowers and the nutmeg and everything becomes very masculine. At times, I get a whiff of something slightly metallic rising from the depths of the fragrance (might be a blood suggestion).
Sexy as hell and very unusual. Great longevity (about 10 hours on me) and pretty solid projection.
The first time I sniffed Vierges et Toreros by Etat Libre d`Orange was a gross experience. I must be a masochist, so I tried it a few more times and each time was a little less gross, but still, hell-to-the-no. ELdO did not eff around with the execution of the concept. Speaking of execution, VeT is “the virgin and the bullfighter”—with blood, tuberose and leather. Yes, I’m picking up all three accords loud and clear, but there is something in the composition that smells truly awful. I can’t describe it, but it certainly makes me nauseous. Maybe all of us are not working with the same olfactory equipment and some notes are divine to some and putrid to others? Perhaps genetic factors are to blame…
Are we supposed to applaud or mock our hero as he withdraws his bloody sword?
This was recommended to me a few years ago by someone with a good knowledge of my favorite leather scents. My first few wearings of Vierges et Toreros were uneasy, as there is something in it that smells like blood, and it caused the back of my throat to constrict. Eventually, one wearing of it made me feel a little nauseated so it went into the back of the closet for a couple of years.
Recently I've been going through the back of the closet to see if any of the exiled scents have become more attractive to me.
My new first impression was, "Tuberose! With all its rubber and gasoline!" I generally don't like white florals and especially not tuberose, but this time I did like it, even though I still got the blood and throat-constricting qualities.
In fact, I was a little disappointed when the initial assault died down and it became a quieter, more leathery scent.
After a few hours, it dried down into a soft floral leather with a trace of incense, very mild-mannered compared to the explosive opening.
I wish it could have retained more of the initial violence, but all in all, I find this a unique and rewarding effort by the Antoines.