MPH (2008)
by Washington Tremlett

MPH is an old school gentlemanly fougere - definitely not as bracingly herbal as it may sound from the notes, more smooth like a softer Penhaligon's English Fern. It has the same sweetish anise/licorice/fennel accord that reminds me pleasantly of the smell of actual, living ferns. It's a dry sweetness but definitely a sweetness nonetheless and yes, now that the previous reviewer har mentioned it, there may be a discreet, non-dirty patchouli note adding to that effect. Apart from that I can't really pick out any notes - no citrus, no oakmoss... It's a very mellow and linear scent altogether. Not too bad, but not too good either.

I think that MPH is an acronym for "Mediocre Patchouli Here". I don't give too many negative reviews, as I try with all objectivity to get an "organic metaphor" for a scent. I believe that every fragrance has at least a semblence of anguished thought behind it, because as a parfumier releasing something subpar could spell disaster not only for your sales, but also in your respect in the field. The art of scent is becoming quite the flooded market, and as a "house", especially on the fringe of popularity (seven different fragrances with a total of ten reviews?), satisfaction with ho-hum could ring the death-bell for any continued success... that being said I had never heard of this perfume house until the wonderfully amazing Dimitri sent me a sample nestled in with a plethora of decants when I purchased a couple of amazing fragrances. This was probably one of the last of the lot that I sampled, and in the last three hours I have been everything but impressed. Citrus??? it laughs at you out of the bottle before falling dry on the skin without a shred of identity... Lavender??? The scented dryer sheets I picked up at Target today for 1.99 had more lavender, and the shred of pepper I got was enough to think about think about think about maybe wrinkling my nose to think about maybe, just maybe, affecting a fake sneeze... On the tail end I was so wiped out from the boredom that the very slight drydown comparison to A*men (or any one of a thousand patchouli/oakmoss dries) that I would really rather fall asleep than continue the observation... If, for some reason, I awaken to the most heavenly pulse I havfe ever had the opportunity to relish I might edit my review, but for now this will be classified under my "intense waste of three hours I'll never have the gift to relive" genre, and for that I give four thumbs down.