Onda
by Vero Profumo

Onda is one seriously weird smell. On a smelling strip it is a bold, animalic leather that vies with Bandit, Knize Ten, and Oud Cuir d’Arabie in pungency, married to a potent and bizarre peanut butter and hospital disinfectant accord, the likes of which I’ve never before encountered. When I first smelled Onda on paper my reaction was revulsion, but with such initially disturbing scents as Muscs Koublaï Khan, Kouros, and Yatagan in mind, I withheld judgment. Another case against evaluating fragrances on paper: on the skin Onda makes a very different impression.

Onda's leather is no less blunt when worn on the skin, but I’m happy to report that the illusion of peanut butter subsides after several minutes, revealing in its place an intense and sweet tobacco smoke accord that sends my nose scurrying in search of a humidor. What smelled like disinfectant on the test strip emerges as a combination of ginger and extremely dry vetiver, the latter with strong overtones of licorice. A highly contrasting floral note emerges not long after, piling yet another layer of weight and complexity onto the structure. Onda is nothing if not ambitious!

Onda is also loud, and I mean LOUD: the neighborhood will know you’re wearing it. The floral component inevitably bows out over the course of three or four hours, leaving the smoky campfire and riding tack accord to stand alone in all its dark majesty for several more hours, with no dimunition in overall volume. In its late stages, Onda resembles an even smokier, ashier version of Andy Tauer’s Lonestar Memories. Being considerably less sweet is much to Onda’s advantage: unlike the Tauer scent, it never smells like “smoke” flavored barbecue sauce.

Onda never sheds the raw intensity with which it opens, and so like Muscs Koublaï Khan, Yatagan, or Kouros, it’s going to divide critical opinion. I don’t expect too many neutral reviews of this scent! After multiple wearings and much internal debate I rate Onda positively for imagination, daring, and originality, with the caveat that you might well find it nauseating. Masterful or horrible: you be the judge.

Pure genius. This is what comes to mind: earth, leather, tobacco, wood, smoke, urine. It's pungent, animalic, meaty, rich. All of that is the opening of Onda. I was immediately smitten. I couldn't function because I couldn't tear my wrist away from my nose long enough to do anything. After everything I've read about this, the only notes I could gather from various websites are vetiver roots, ginger, mace and coriander. There has to be more to it than that. This is too well blended for my amateur nose to pick out individual notes, but as the scent dries down, the vetiver emerges and this is where Onda crosses paths with the Guerlain classic, Djedi (see my review for Djedi where I compare it with Onda). Shortly after, the most unlikeliest of notes comes to accompany it: soft baby powder. As strange and confusing as Onda is, I find it warm and comforting. when I wear it I feel like I'm letting everything that is the best of me emerge. It's unbelievable. This is that kind of scent that keeps me wondering "How did she do this?" In my opinion, this scent could one day be as sought after as Djedi is now. It's that sublime. I guarantee that this is going to be one of those scents where the reviews for it could be split down the middle.

Onda is at the top of my wish list. I'm absolutely "ga ga" over it. I'm even thinking about taking the box containing $150 in gold dollars my Mom gave me last Christmas that I was saving for something special and plunking it down on a full bottle of Onda. From what I've read it's supposed top be available in the U.S. in September. I'm waiting, but not patiently.