Maharadjah (2006)
by Parfums de Nicolaï

This is a rich spicy oriental, and a bit unusual; it starts out with a fair amount of lavender, and a pleasant red apple note underneath it with some dusty wood. At first, I really don't like the sweaty character that the lavender imparts--I almost never do--and it gets worse for a few minutes as the apple blast quickly recedes. As the sweatiness abates, though, a fairly straightforward cinnamon/clove combination appears, a lot like Eau Lente as was remarked below, but without the vanilla, maybe more like Diptyque's original L'eau. Even though this shouldn't be so amazing, I think it's rare enough to find the spices on their own that it stands out somewhat because of that. The cinnamon is very realistic, and it maintains that paradoxical state of being very sharp and zingy at the same time as it's smooth and sensual, as only an actual cinnamon stick can do. As the hot burn fades a little in the base, a bit of mild sandalwood steps in to back it up. I'd call it moderately masculine rather than unisex, both from the scent alone and considering that it was given an obvious "feminine" counterpart. A very well-done spice fragrance.

7th October, 2011.

This one's gonna be my next full-bottle. I too get the full-frontal assault of lavender, but the usually medicinal herb is beautifully tempered by soft spice - what appears to my nose as cinnamon, clove, patch, and perhaps some vanilla. Fresh warmth. I love the contradiction, the juxtaposition. It would never dawn on me to class this as unisex or masculine or feminine. It just smells damn good. Different. Wish more houses would explore the magic of lavender is such ways.

3rd July, 2011.

OMG! I can't believe it. This has me in a trance! I can't stop... I can't stop sniffing this. It is a drug, my drug. I am officially a drug addict, addicted to Maharadjah! I find it quite funny seeing as I hate medicine of any kind. I would rather sleep off a headache than take Panadol but here I am needing to sniff this scent. It is like I need it to survive!


The lasting power is great. It lasts all day on me. There is something about this perfume. It does something to your brain! It is as if it releases some feel good chemicals or hormones or something. Reading the notes can't do it justice. You need to experience Maharadjah. It is so complex and unique. It is soothing, comforting, safe and warm like a mother's embrace yet mesmerizing, dangerously exciting and mysterious like that hot stranger walking out that high rise building.


There is nothing "vapour rub-like" about the spices in here and it won't cheat you like a lot of fragrances by luring you in with seductive top notes only to leave you hanging with cheap generic dry downs! The notes are seamlessly blended, teasing your senses and never letting go. The lavender, cinnamon, clove, pepper, amber?..... oh wow! I am in a hex and can't think clearly enough to write better.


I didn't set out to sample Maharadjah. I wanted to try Maharanih. I only added Maharadjah at the last minute because it brought my total up to qualify for an 8% discount plus it has lavender which I love (love the lavender essential oils and lavender plant. Not a fan of the masculine lavender perfume notes). Fast forward and here I am, unable to try my other samples including Maharanih because I just can't pull myself from Maharadjah to try anything else. I have to admit that Maharadjah and I have a love/hate relationship. We are like two teenagers in love. Even though Maharadjah is androgynous, I like to think we are in a spicy lesbian love affair! Sometimes I hate her but even then, I can't get her our of my head and then I love her and I feel euphoric. She really knows how to mess with my head :). She has given me a new found appreciation for clove and cinnamon, two notes (and spices) which I despise that she flaunts ever so brazenly throughout her composition. From an afterthought to a constant thought, Maharadjah is one special lady!

1st April, 2011.

MAHARADJAH's searing lavender opening takes me by surprise but mellows out all too quickly as the dusty spices gain in strength, the interplay between the soapy sweet and dry piquancy reminding me somewhat of Diptyque's excellent Eau Lente. The cinnamon note is indeed robust but not overbearing. A fleeting menthol note hints at 'mint' though it could just be the patchouli permeating through.

After the interesting introduction, it goes downhill... or so it seems. Fragrance development is probably a little too rapid for my liking - it wasn't long before I was left with a softly resinous oriental drydown: amber, opoponax, sandalwood. Smooth but a little tame. Certainly not what I would expect from such an opulently-named fragrance. But it wears well on skin and projects nicely. de Nicolai's use of lavender in an oriental-styled composition may be unexpected but undeniably inspired.

13rd February, 2011.

Sometimes I come on basenotes to write a review and promptly feel insane. Did my sample of Maharadjah contain a different ratio of fragrance notes?
Anyway, Maharadjah opens with a absolute assault of cinnamon, which is wonderful, but it's so dominant that the other notes remain but a whisper. In fact, if I couldn't see the other notes at the top of this page I wouldn't really be sure what they were. I'm very familiar with (and fond of) lavender, clove, sandalwood, and patchouli, so it's not a matter of unfamiliarity causing my brain to disregard the scent. That said, the cinnamon is damn clear and you'd best be sure you enjoy cinnamon before you even bother sampling this. The cinnamon stays dominant throughout the entire development, and it's got pretty good longevity, so I came home from work still adrift in a cloud of tree-bark goodness.

Due to the extreme dominance of the cinnamon, I can't give this a thumbs up. It just feels like it's using a delicious crutch. All of the other notes aren't notes at all, rather they're barely audible overtones in a big, fat, cinnamon note, played on a .140 gauge cinnamon string, on a bass guitar constructed of...

10th December, 2010.

Much--perhaps too much--has been made about the de Nicolaï/Guerlain connection. Nevertheless, I'm coming to realize that Patricia de Nicolaî's scents share a common quirk with those of her ancestors: The fragrances choose their wearers, not vice-versa. I would so love to love Maharadjah, but it refuses to return that love.

I have now tested it twice, months apart, with the same result. Its opening is one of the most gorgeous I've ever experienced, dark, plummy, mysterious--sort of a kinder, gentler analogue of Kenzo Jungle l'Elephant. The fragrance grows even more glorious as a note resembling burnt brown sugar mixed with cinnamon kicks in. And then . . . the anti-climax.

I see various references to Maharadjah's excellent longevity among the reviews, but that hasn't been my experience in either test. I share the heartbreak that vintage*red remarks. Within fifteen minutes, it diminishes into a skin scent, still very lovely, that I can detect if I keep my nose firmly pressed against my wrist and forearm.

(Sigh)

Oh, that I could stay the fleeting moment! But in the end, Maharadjah is too ephemeral on me to warrant the purchase of a full bottle.

1st June, 2010.